Somewhere With You
by Brat-Child3
Summary: AU. When Ritsuka decides he's had enough at home, he takes off on his own - never expecting that he'd end up a rent boy in Soubi's whorehouse. He also never expected to meet a charming client named Seimei... RitsukaxSoubi RitsukaxSeimei
1. Chapter 1

**"Somewhere with you"**

by

_Magic Mind and BratChild3_

Author's Notes:

The title sounds like PWP, but it's NOT. It does have lots of smut though. XD

The idea for this story was one of those ideas that pops into your head and won't let you rest until you work on it. It was born of a late-night conversation between two people madly obsessed with each other and with yaoi. And it's going to be co-written from start to finish by me, Magic Mind, and BC3.

You read the summary so you know what you're getting into. Don't say we didn't warn you. (And don't say that the mangaka wasn't asking for this to happen when she drew Ritsuka in some of those outfits...heh.)

Let us know what you think of this first installment! And thanks for reading!

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><p><strong><span>Chapter one<span>**

He had put up with it for this long because she was his mother, and that was the only reason. He told himself this was his home, that she loved him in her own way, that eventually she would get better. But those were lies, and she never did, and in the darkest part of himself he knew she never would. And still he thought he'd always stay with her, that he'd always want to try to mend their broken family. But on the eve of Ritsuka's 18th birthday, when the glass candelabra came crashing down upon his head and knocked him out cold for a full forty minutes, he knew he had to either leave or die.

He didn't take the time to pack, just stood from the small pool of blood and glinting glass shards, dusted off his thick plum-colored jacket, and left. But he didn't just go, he _went_. He went to seek and maybe to find and although he wasn't sure exactly what he was looking for, he knew it would be in whichever place filled him with the happiness he so often longed for but had always been just out of his reach.

The only thing he managed to bring along was a small leather-bound sketchbook he had secured beneath the folds of his jacket in the innermost pocket. He liked to sketch things, mostly people and animals. Perhaps he could make a living selling portraits to tourists, or accrue at least enough for a hot cup of coffee to ward off the chill of the night. Anywhere for tonight would do, as long as the police didn't drag him back home. If his mother filed a report, it would be useless by morning anyway. He would be of age, and no one could force him to go back.

_Let her try_, he thought savagely, and made his way into the heart of the city.

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><p>The first night was….cold. He had been wearing his warmest jacket when he'd run, but that night, it felt like nothing more than a t-shirt. Curled up in the shadows of a highway overpass, Ritsuka shivered and shook and tried to think only of his new freedom. It was difficult. And the gnawing pain in his stomach only added to his discomfort. He was sure that only half of it was caused by hunger.<p>

The overpass had functioned well-enough as a roof for him. Thank God it didn't rain that night. But when the dawn came, Ritsuka knew that he needed something to eat. He was skinny enough as it was. Another night without food could land him in an early grave – it was no exaggeration. Already his footsteps were slow and clumsy.

He had no idea which way to go, so he decided to follow the sidewalk he had been facing when he woke that morning. There was a diner at the end of the block. The paint on its business sign was fading, peeling away in tired, sad flakes. But there was a light on inside, even at this early hour, and Ritsuka was willing to wash a hundred dishes or mop the entire diner's floors for a hot breakfast.

Without another thought in his head, he pushed open the door and stumbled through. Inside, it was warm. Almost everything was wood, even the ceiling, and it looked as old and worn as the outside. But it was clean, and there was a cheery looking elderly man wiping a rag around and around inside a coffee mug as he watched a morning news show on a wall-mounted flat screen, the only thing in the room that looked like it hadn't been there since the 1940's.

Ritsuka made a beeline for him, straightening his back to appear as tall as possible. He was still rather small and skinny; a runt, if he were perfectly honest, but that didn't mean he couldn't look mature and important.

"Good morning, good morning," said the man. He was wearing a gleaming nametag that said Chai. "What can I get for you today?"

Ritsuka tried to smile and hoped it didn't come off as a grimace. He felt so nervous. He wasn't even sure how to go about asking. "I'm looking for a job," he finally said, and breathed a silent sigh of relief that it hadn't come out shaky.

Chai gave him a once over, still moping the inside of the mug. "Have to be at least sixteen to work here."

"But I'm eighteen!"

Chai looked as if he sincerely doubted that, but he wasn't going to argue. "Even so, we're not hiring. Haven't in twelve years. Sorry, kid. Sure you're not hungry though? Best food for miles."

Pretty sure every one of the food shops he went into around here would have that same exact slogan, he fished into his pocket and pulled out a roll of money. He was so hungry he was sure even something as gruesome as road kill would taste like heaven. He didn't have much, only about 3 weeks worth of allowance, and he'd have to make it last at least until he found someone willing to hire a barely legal homeless boy with no work experience.

"Just some eggs," he said. "scrambled. And a glass of-" he had been about to say water, but as his eyes raked the menu, he saw hot tea was dirt cheap and had unlimited refills. "A cup of hot tea."

"Coming right up." Chai said with a curt nod and a warm smile.

As he bustled about behind the counter, Ritsuka took a seat at the bar. There were hardly any patrons around (not a surprise at this hour, Ritsuka reminded himself) and things were fairly quiet. His barstool was rusting where it met the floor but it was otherwise comfortable. Anything felt comfortable when one had just spent the night lying on cold concrete. There was a jukebox over in the corner, looking like it had seen better days.

Chai came back to him, setting down a steaming mug of tea and several sugar packets. "We've got milk too, if you take milk with your tea," he offered.

"Just the sugar….thank you." said Ritsuka.

Chai nodded, slinging a dishtowel over his shoulder. "Be right back with those eggs, then."

Ritsuka emptied all of the sugar packets into his cup, swirling the mug a few times to mix them. He sipped it slowly, careful not to scald his tongue, and glanced around.

There was a woman at the other end of the bar, eating what looked like cherry pie and a milkshake. Ritsuka couldn't see any other people…..until he noticed a man near the back, seated at a booth alone. He was half in shadow, and gray smoke swirled up around him. Ritsuka knew few people who smoked but this man looked like he'd been born with a cigarette between his fingers. He took long drags of it, bringing it up to his mouth smoothly and easily bypassing the curtains of long blond hair that fell around him. His hair was bone-straight and immaculately free of tangles. He was good-looking, really, if a bit on the skinny side. Ritsuka belatedly realized that he was wearing glasses – round ones in silver frames. They were so unobtrusive that it was almost like they melted into the man's face. It was odd…..the guy wasn't even eating.

Suddenly Ritsuka heard the door clatter open behind him. He glanced backwards and saw three policeman walk in. There was a loud clink as Ritsuka nearly dropped his mug against the counter. His heart flew into a panic. Surely they couldn't have tracked him here! He hadn't spoken to anyone at all. He'd left no trace of himself under that overpass….not even a shoelace!

Idiot….Ritsuka suddenly realized. You're eighteen today. Nothing they could do about it even if they found you. Relax.

His panic was beneficial in at least one way, though. It reminded him that he needed some kind of plan. He couldn't sit in this diner forever. He needed money….a job…a place to stay. Something. …Anything. Maybe they had a phone book in this place. At least he could start thinking about where to start.

It turned out that Chai's phone book was nearly as decrepit as his diner, but it was legible, and that was all Ritsuka really cared about. While he shoveled eggs into his mouth, he found the numbers and addresses of a few homeless shelters and scribbled them down into his sketch pad. If worse came to worst, he could spend a few nights there. There were also a few other restaurants in town, he found. He took down those numbers and addresses as well, figuring that restaurants would be the smartest places to begin looking for work. Surely there was one out there that needed a waiter…a busboy….something.

He was still feeling hungry, but after a plate full of eggs and four mugs of tea, Ritsuka felt like he was pushing the upper limit of how long a polite customer would remain in a diner. He dropped a few bills onto the counter, leaving a little extra for Chai's tip. He had to stop himself from withholding it….who knew when he would see even that much money come to him again? But it wasn't right. Ritsuka knew it wasn't. So without another glance at the bills, he slid himself off of the barstool and forced his feet to carry him onto the sidewalk outside.

The air was still chill, but the late morning sun felt invitingly warm against the exposed skin of his face and throat. He closed his eyes against the rays and inhaled the scent of damp pavement and the charbroiled grills beginning to fire up for the afternoon lunch crowd. There was a small coy pond just to the right of the diner, obviously meant to entertain waiting customers, although Ritsuka was having a job picturing a line actually forming outside this place. He needed to get moving, find some restaurants with help wanted signs pinned into their windows. And yet…

He sat on the bench in front of the pond and took out his sketchpad. It was just a pond, an industrial one at that, but it was a beautiful pond, and he wanted something to remember his first day of freedom.

He had almost sketched the entire thing-finishing up the last of a lily pad-when a roll of mentholated cigarette smoke billowed past and the silhouette of a tall, blonde figure filled the small square of the water's reflective surface. It was the same man who had sat so eerily in the corner booth of the diner, chain-smoking behind nondescript silver glasses. He was looking off in the distance, unaware he wasn't alone.

Ritsuka hesitated a beat, then flipped to a fresh page in and began hastily sketching the man's outline. He was just beginning to sharpen the lines of the man's hair when he heard a soft cough. Suddenly freezing, worried that the man had seen his sketch and was offended, Ritsuka hastily flipped his book closed. The leather-cover made a snapping sound when it slapped shut over the pages.

"You needn't stop," a smooth voice said. "It was quite good."

It took him a moment to get his bearings, but Ritsuka turned, his face flaming. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be rude. I don't usually draw people without their permission. It's just that-" He looked down, rubbing his arm.

"Go on," said the man.

"Well, It... it's just thought that you'd say no."

The man smiled slightly, as though something Ritsuka said had amused him.

"I wouldn't have said no. Please...do continue." he took another drag on his cigarette before adding, "I insist."

"You mean that?" Estatic, though still slightly mortified at having been caught, Ritsuka reopened his sketchpad and resumed. This man had one of those long, angular faces that were particularly fun to draw.

"I'm an artist as well," the man said conversationally. "You can find all my works at the local gallery three blocks from here. Have you ever been?"

Ritsuka shook his head. "I'm sorry, no. I don't normally have time for those sorts of things."

"It's alright. I know you are certainly not the only one with his own life to be going on with." The man smiled slightly again. Ritsuka wondered if he were listening to some wry, joking voice inside his head. "Still...if you are ever interested, it's open to the public."

Ritsuka nodded as he continued to draw, not lifting his eyes. "Thanks."

They fell into a quasi-comfortable silence then, Ritsuka drawing and the stranger doing nothing but smoke.

When Ritsuka had finished, he held the sketch at a distance, gazing up between his completed work and the stranger. The man had a curiously lovely shade of violet eyes. Too bad he never did learn to use colors.

"May I see?" asked the man. He speared his cigarette stub toward the ground but didn't bother snuffing it out. The embers quickly died against the pavement.

Ritsuka handed him the sketchbook, not worried he would flip through the rest. The man simply wasn't rude enough. He'd ask first, and if he did, Ritsuka would simply take it back and tell him no.

The stranger studied Ritsuka's drawing, turning it left and right at slight angles. Ritsuka noticed that there were faint lines scattered along his wrists...scars?

"I think..." the man began, almost as if he were talking to himself, "...that this is a remarkable likeness."

Ritsuka felt his eyes widen. He couldn't help but blurt out, "Really?"

"Really. In fact...would you sell this one? I'd compensate you fairly for it."

Completely taken aback, Ritsuka couldn't help but gawk at the man. "Compensate? You mean pay me? With money?"

The man laughed again, that soft, barely there chuckle that was at first annoying but now seemed oddly sweet. "With money, of course. Do you have a usual going rate? I'm willing to pay you twice over."

Ritsuka was dumbfound. A going rate? He'd sketch out whatever this guy asked for in exchange for a cheeseburger and a pillow to rest his head on tonight.

"I...I don't often sell them." Ritsuka managed. Deciding to shift the ball into the man's court, he asked, "What do you think it's worth?"

The stranger consulted the sketchbook again, then after a moment he handed it back and pulled out of his pocket a handsome brown leather wallet. He counted out a small stack of money and pressed it into Ritsuka's free hand.

"Will that do?"

With his eyes practically popping out of his head, Ritsuka could do nothing but nod stupidly.

"Very well," said the man. "Uh, may I?" he pointed at the sketchbook. Ritsuka released it to him without a word and was finally brought about when the soft sound of tearing broke the still air.

The man held the sketchbook back out to him. "I recommend you conceal that money. There's quite a few people around here with sticky fingers." He winked.

Ritsuka blinked at him, then stared down at the money again before pocketing it.

The stranger slipped the sketch neatly into an inner pocket of his coat. Then he held his hand out to Ritsuka. "Thank you very much, Mister...?"

Ritsuka hesitated. Surely a handshake wouldn't hurt, but...giving his name... "Maybe the next time you buy one of my drawings." he said finally. There was no harm in asking for more business, after all. The handshake went on a beat longer than he expected.

The man gave another of those soft chuckles. "I see. Maybe so. For myself, you can call me Soubi."

And then, spinning on his heel and taking a stride in the opposite direction, the man strolled away.

Ritsuka watched him leave, rolling the name around in his head. He tried saying it out loud, his voice little more than a whisper on the street. "Soubi..."

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><p><em>AN: Yay! BC3 here. Please let us know what you think!_


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: BC3 here. Magic Mind and I would like to say thank you very much for the reviews! And you lurkers—WE SEE YOU! XD Let us know what you think. We're having a tremendously exciting time writing this. We have so much plot and character development planned out for this story. It will be rich with drama, angst, comedy, and BOOOOY LOOOOVE! If that's your thing, you'll want to stick around.

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><p><strong>Chapter Two<strong>

Two days later, Ritsuka's situation had gone from bad to worse. After his success with Soubi, he had decided to try to sell other sketches as a way of earning money. He'd encountered people here and there on the streets and offered to draw landscapes...portraits...even cartoons. Whatever might interest them. But no one was willing to purchase a single drawing. It had depressed him, but not so much that he stopped looking for work. He still needed to eat, after all. So he had gone in search of the restaurants he'd looked up in Chai's phone book. But it was a bitch to find work when you had no resume, no references, and no experience. None of the restaurant managers offered him a position anywhere - not even as a busboy. Gainful employment had so far been a disastrous joke.

As for where he slept...Ritsuka was far from eager to repeat his night on the cold concrete underneath the highway overpass. He'd gone to the homeless shelter but it was filled up. The woman in charge there had taken his name down on a waiting list and told him to check back in three days. She had been kind enough to offer him use of their bathroom, though, and had given him toothpaste and soap. Ritsuka brushed his teeth with his fingertip and gave himself the best sponge bath that he could. It was meager, but he was still very grateful for even that much. After that...it was back to the overpass for the night.

His neck was sore, his fingers and toes were stiff and numb with cold, and he'd been living off convenience store food—Potato chips or candy bars—whatever he could find cheapest. They were edible, but always slightly stale-tasting, like they'd been on the shelf too long. He found himself missing home a few times, and his mother. She didn't always cook, but when she did and wasn't being twisted about it, it always left him feeling sleepy and satisfied.

Having exhausted the busiest portion of the city, he started westward, reaching closer toward home and assuring himself with every step that he wouldn't get closer than seven blocks from his old neighborhood. He was too afraid of running into someone he knew.

As he walked, he began to notice that there was less trash on the sidewalks...business signs were brighter, newer. Even the air began to feel more fresh. He hoped that these were good omens for his job search.

Turning a corner, Ritsuka noticed a crowd of people ahead. Not an extremely large group but clearly a gathering of some kind. An assembly? He continued on cautiously. Maybe it would even be beneficial to have so many people around...he could blend in more easily.

The closer he got, the more distinct became a woman's voice, slightly panicked and carrying over the indistinguishable murmur swelling from the onlookers. The woman's voice prevailed and become instantly recognizable the same moment Ritsuka's eyes fell upon the face of his mother, staring around at the crowd and brandishing a poster. She had a stack of them under one arm, and it seemed they all had an enlarge photograph of his head planted squarely in the middle, with the heading MISSING CHILD in clear print.

Ritsuka didn't have to think twice about it. He just went. Fast. Turned on his heel and fairly ran in the opposite direction. Nothing good could come from anyone spotting him and putting two and two together. Better to starve than to be brought back home.

When he was out of earshot of his mother's shouts, he allowed himself to slow down a bit. A teenager running down the street would be conspicuous anyway. He was a few blocks away from the crowd now. He allowed himself to walk (briskly).

And then...just when his heart was already beating on overdrive from ONE surprise...there came another. A blond one, walking out of a storefront not twenty feet away.

Ritsuka had to admit he had looked for him the day after the sketch. It wasn't an elaborate manhunt, but he hadn't retraced his path into Chai's diner for nothing, and he hadn't wasted two hours of his morning because the coy pond was seriously that interesting. In all honesty, he didn't know if he wanted to sell another sketch more or if it was the company he had really been looking forward to. Life as a homeless runaway was lonely.

But he'd given up after those two hours, dismissing Soubi as a local who'd just been passing by that day. Soubi… that was his name. And Soubi was heading directly toward the area his mother had congregated.

"Hey...Soubi!" Ritsuka cried thoughtlessly. He needed something...anything...to keep Soubi away from those people. God only knew what would happen if he saw one of the posters. Or worse: Ritsuka's mother.

Soubi paused in his steps, looking up at the sound of Ritsuka's voice. Even at this distance, Ritsuka could tell that his eyes were quizzical.

"Hi!" Ritsuka called brightly, hurrying over to him. He quickly attached a smile to his face.

It felt rather forced and artificial, probably because it was, but Soubi didn't seem to notice. He smiled back and chuckled under his breath."If it isn't Mr. No Name. Or does the artist prefer something a little more unique? Anonymous?"

Ritsuka kept the smile plastered on, hoping it would aid in keeping a conversation going. "I'm sorry...you can't blame me for being cautious, right? You hear things on the news all the time about talking to strangers and stuff. But I think it was rude not to tell you...you were nice enough to buy my sketch! My name's Ritsuka."

"Ritsuka, well," said Soubi, his violet eyes narrowing further as his smile widened. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"Yeah," said Ritsuka. He was far too frantic for these frivolities. "I was just going back to Chai's for some eggs. Wanna come?" He linked his arm into the bend of Soubi's elbow and began practically dragging him along. Chai's was the furthest place from here he could think of at the moment.

Soubi glanced down at their linked arms, his smile bending into something resembling a smirk. "I'd love to but...I've actually got some things that need attending to right now. Actually..." he paused, as if considering a farfetched idea. "Would you be able to help me with something? I'd repay you, of course. And it would save me time. Then you and I could have dinner together at Little Italy. They have wonderful pastas. You must be tired of eggs."

He wasn't sure which was more exciting to him, the prospect of payment or pasta. Ritsuka's stomach gave an enthusiastic rumble of an opinion on the matter, which he tried to hide by shifting impatiently and saying, "A job? Okay. Do you want your shoes shined or something?"

Instantly he felt himself go red. Was he stupid? What was this, the 1930's?

But no… he wasn't stupid. He was panicked! What if his mother decided to come _this way?_

Soubi took the suggestion as though it were perfectly reasonable. "No..." he said conversationally. "I'm actually in need of milk. The grocery store is a bit out of my way today...do you think you could pick up some for me? I only drink whole."

Without waiting for an answer, he pressed a few bills into Ritsuka's hand.

"Meet me back here at 6:00 and we'll walk together."

And to Ritsuka's immense relief, he turned and walked back up the street, away from the crowds and posters.

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><p>It wasn't until after he had sunk into the plastic seat of the bus and had been hypnotized by the loud rumbling of the engine that Ritsuka realized how bad he felt. Not just physically, but mentally and emotionally. Had it really only been three days since his birthday? It felt like a lifetime, and the city was already screaming at him to go home.<p>

But he wouldn't go home no matter what happened. Even when his insides began to sink into the depths of his stomach every time he wondered just how bad things were going to get before they got better. He came close to vomiting when the notion that they never would slithered serpent-like into his mind.

Just how long could he survive in the winter with no shelter or access to medical care? The outlook didn't seem promising; he'd already witnessed dozens of watery-eyed people coughing and purchasing multi-symptom bottles of medicines. Even the small girl currently riding with her mother in the seat in front of him had a runny nose. She kept facing backward and staring at him, loudly snorting back her mucus and then falling into a coughing fit. Ritsuka shrank back and folded his jacket over his mouth and nose.

He had used part of the milk money Soubi had given him to ride the bus into the upper East side. There wasn't a grocer downtown he'd trust buying milk from, and the store Soubi had been headed for was in the eye of the poster chaos. He'd weighed his options fretfully and, running out of time, finally ended up here, coasting the ritzy side of the city in a bus, where the streets were nicer and the architecture more complex and ornamental than even the comfortably decent neighborhood he had grown up in.

_This is where the doctors live_, He thought wryly. _This is where the people live who go to college after high school instead of becoming runaways. This is where the lucky people live who have mentally stable parents who love them._

The thought made him feel even worse. He turned his eyes toward the bus window, hoping to spot a convenience store as soon as possible. He had to get himself up and moving - distract himself from his growing depression.

Ritsuka found one five minutes later, right on the corner. He reached up for the cord to signal the bus driver to stop. Apparently the driver was half asleep because it took four pulls before he finally felt the bus begin to slow down. And when he stepped off, he saw that he had to walk four blocks back to reach the store.

...he also saw that he had stepped in gum.

There was a faint pain radiating up the back of his head that was growing steadily more severe. He had the tendency to get worked up over little things like this, but it was hard not to when they began to pile up, like some sick joke fate was playing on him. He inhaled deeply and held it in the center of his chest for a full five seconds, trying to calm his innermost thoughts, which were starting to whirl and make him feel too warm beneath his layers of clothes.

_Just… steady_… he coached himself, and stepped off the curb. His foot sank ankle-deep into a patch of dark water.

"_Why_?" He shouted at it, startling a pair of middle school girls who had been passing by. "Just _why_?"

Now he had to walk around with a soggy sock inside of a soggy shoe underneath the soggy hem of his jeans. Great. Soubi was going to think he was a nutcase.

He was beginning to feel like he was, himself.

Soubi. The milk. Right. He had to go get the milk now. And that meant getting himself to the store - which meant he had to get a grip on himself.

Things were clean inside the place, at least. The aisles were neatly arranged and the floor pristine. It was a far cry from the streets near Ritsuka's overpass (which he had started to think of, disturbingly, as "home"). The freezers were lined up in the back, and Ritsuka made his way there straightaway.

The milk section was small and Ritsuka hadn't forgotten that Soubi had specifically told him to get whole. There was ONE gallon of whole milk left. He snagged it before anyone else could and hurried to the check out.

"Are you sure you have enough money for this, kid?" The woman at the checkout stand was eyeing him with a mingled expression of boredom and distaste. She was squat with tight auburn curls and a lower lip that protruded with an overbite like a bulldog.

Ritsuka slammed the money in front of her without saying a word, his jaw tight and glower affixed firmly to his face. Was he sure he had enough _money_? For a gallon of _milk_? His clothes may not be designer, and, okay, they were a bit dirty and kind of wrinkled and wet from the ankle down on one side, but was that any reason to treat him like a… like a…

A _homeless _person?

He felt his anger dissipate as she handed him the receipt and change without a word, still sneering down her mushroom cap nose. He left in a rush, feeling suddenly like he couldn't get fresh air soon enough.

He dragged his feet as he made his way back toward the bus stop, but clutched the milk protectively, almost obsessively, to his chest. Soubi would pay him for this, plus buy him dinner. And garlic bread. And maybe even a dessert. Ritsuka had certainly troubled himself enough to get this infuriating man his stupid milk and felt he deserved it.

The thought of food had his stomach making verbal demands again. The bus stop was just in sight, and a few paces before it was a vending machine, gleaming with an artificial pink and blue glow in the quickly darkening twilight.

Ritsuka approached it with wide, hungry eyes. Everything inside of it looked good. He had exactly one hour to get back to Soubi—but that was one _whole _hour, plus however long it took to get to stupid Little Italy, and then however long it took for the (probably) incompetent workers to take their order. Ritsuka snorted and set the milk jug carefully between his feet, cradling it in case anyone was stupid enough to try to take it from him. He trusted absolutely _no one_ right now. There was definitely no way this was going to spoil his dinner. He'd definitely still be eating the full entrée.

With a suspicious glance around, he pulled from his pocket a few loose coins and inserted them into the designated slot. He didn't really care which snack he ended up with, and so ended up just pressing buttons at random. A brightly decorated packet rattled inside the machine and began to move forward, then made a choking noise and sputtered to a stop.

"…No." Ritsuka grasped the edges of the machine and shook. "No! No, no, no, no! This is _not happening_!" He shook it harder, more frantically; using an outpouring of words he hadn't even realized was in his vocabulary. He kicked it and shook it and kicked it some more, but the packaged remained steadfast in its slot.

Sweaty and trembling all over, Ritsuka took another of those ridiculous, completely useless deep breaths that had never helped anyone, picked up the milk, and promptly tripped over his own shoelace which, of course, had come undone. The milk jug was not glass, but it bounced once and then shattered like it was. Ritsuka fell into the milk while gravity was in the process of pulling it to the ground, and they hit the sidewalk in unison.

He lay there a moment, face down in the shallow white puddle, too stunned by his own misfortune to move. Then the anger hit him like a sledgehammer and he was on his feet and throwing the plastic handle and what remained attached of the jug at the vending machine. "SON OF A BITCH!"

And then a soft, inquisitive voice broke in.

"Bad day?"

Chest still heaving in his rage, Ritsuka looked to his right. And saw a man who was plainly born under a far luckier star than he.

The man was dressed from head to toe in clothes that looked like they had walked straight off the runway. A gray knee-length wool coat, black slacks, suit jacket and tie...everything immaculate and wrinkle-free. Even his hair, jet black and with the barest hint of curls, was perfectly coiffed.

Ritsuka instantly thought that the guy must be offended to be breathing the same air as him, drenched in milk as he was and sporting a couple of scrapes on his palms where he had fallen. But the man either didn't notice or didn't care. All his expression betrayed was curiosity, and perhaps caution.

Under normal circumstances, he'd probably feel too shy to speak to someone so… for lack of classier words, someone so freaking _hot_. But seriously, he was way past the point of managing a good first impression anyway, so fuck it.

Ritsuka spread his arms wide and let them drop back to his sides. His jacket made a repulsive squelching sound. "And getting better every minute."

The man smiled sympathetically. "You do seem a little...wet."

Ritsuka glared back at the broken remains of the milk jug. "It's milk. I was picking some up for my...friend. And now it's all over me and it was the last one the store had and I don't have money for more and he's going to be pissed at me and this bitch of a vending machine ate my money and I'm starving and it's just...so yeah. I'm having a bad day."

The stranger, who had been listening patiently throughout Ritsuka's rant, suddenly reached a hand into his pocket, bringing out a handful of coins. "I see..." he began, walking up to the machine. "Let's see if a few of those things can't be mended." And he deposited several coins into it.

Before Ritsuka knew what was happening, the man was holding out a brightly wrapped package of chips. A kind smile was painted on his face - which made him, if anything, even more attractive. Something that Ritsuka would not have considered possible thirty seconds ago.

"I can't - " Ritsuka immediately protested, sputtering. "You don't have to -"

The man said nothing. He just continued to hold out the chips, until Ritsuka felt like it was rude to make him stand that way for so long. He took the bag with a embarrassed "thank you."

As if encouraged by one success, the stranger now held out another bag. This one was a grocery sack, which Ritsuka hadn't noticed he'd been carrying all this time. The sack was plastic and shaped exactly like a milk jug, condensation glittering on the outsides.

"No." Ritsuka protested again, stronger this time. "I can't -"

"Your milk got ruined, and you seem to need it more than I need mine. Take it." the man said, as if the logic of this was irrefutable.

"I CAN'T - " Ritsuka told him, almost plaintively.

The stranger smiled again. "I insist."

He hesitated a beat, then reached out and took the jug, accidentally brushing the stranger's hand. It was big and warm. He stared down at the milk, wanting to say thank you, but was horrified to feel the sting of tears, hot and wet with gratitude, pricking his eyes. It felt like a chocolate was suddenly wedged into his throat, making it too tight to speak. No one, not a single person in his living memory, had ever shown him such uninhibited kindness. The sudden upheaval of tenderness he felt toward this person was overwhelming in both good and bad ways.

The man let go of the milk easily, without the slightest indication that he begrudged the loss of it.

He put his hand on Ritsuka's shoulder and waited for Ritsuka to meet his eyes.

"It'll be okay." he said.

And just like that...Ritsuka believed that it would be.

* * *

><p>The comfort the beautiful stranger seemed to have instilled in Ritsuka was, in fact, so effective that he wasn't just feeling better by the time he arrived back at his and Soubi's meeting spot, he was downright cheerful.<p>

With his head cleared of miserable thoughts, Ritsuka had sat quite numb for a while on the bus, a quiet sort of pacification humming through him. And then, little by little, inspiration began to blossom. Perhaps the chips helped free up some neurons or something, but he realized there was still hope for him, and he knew exactly where to begin.

"Hi, Soubi!"

Soubi had been facing in the opposite direction. He turned with a smile, which slowly dissolved into quizzical bemusement.

"I got your milk." Ritsuka thrust it out to him, all smiles.

Soubi took it from him with an arched eyebrow. "I do hope it wasn't an odyssey to obtain." His eyes were combing Ritsuka's disheveled profile, from his milk-soaked shirt to his wet and filthy pants leg.

"Nope," said Ritsuka, his arms linked behind his back as he rocked on his heels. "So, how about that pasta?"

Soubi huffed out one of those mysterious chuckles. "Right this way," he said, gesturing for Ritsuka to go before him.

Ritsuka didn't see any restaurant called Little Italy in sight, though. "Umm..." he said eloquently. "Which way?"

"Straight ahead. Just a few blocks down."

And together they walked.

Little Italy, it turned out, was nicer than Chai's. All of the furniture was clean and bright and modern. It wasn't like the five star restaurants Ritsuka had seen on the food channel before, but it was a fine little restaurant. And Ritsuka could smell something lovely as soon as they walked in the door. So to him, that made the place pretty close to heaven.

They were sat at a booth in the corner and given glossy menu's and two glasses of ice water. Ritsuka scanned the menu front to back, having trouble deciding on anything because he wanted everything. He was so absorbed in the selections he forgot completely about Soubi until he heard him speaking to the waiter.

"I'll be having the butternut squash filled ravioli. Light on the pesto sauce, please." He looked at Ritsuka over his menu as he folded it up. "I highly recommend it, if you're undecided.""Yeah, okay," said Ritsuka. "And garlic bread sticks with dipping sauce, a cup of tea with sugar, and the house soup to start."

Soubi nodded at the waiter as he collected their menus. When the waiter left, Soubi remarked, "You must be hungry."

Ritsuka nodded, bouncing his feet under the table. Soubi had no idea. "I am. I want to see if this pasta is really as good as you say."

Soubi smirked and took a sip from his water glass. "It is. So...Ritsuka...tell me about yourself. I imagine you must live in the neighborhood?"

He had a feeling the conversation would come around to this, and so Ritsuka was unsurprised and also prepared. He smiled graciously. "Yes. A but more toward the west. It's a suburban neighborhood. Not in town."

"I see. I grew up in a suburban neighborhood." Soubi shared. "In my later years, I found that city life agreed more with me. Do you enjoy your home?"

Ritsuka nodded but didn't elaborate on it. "What do you like better about living in the city?"

Soubi gave an eloquent shrug. "The convenience. The atmosphere." and then, with a glass raised in Ritsuka's direction, he added, "the company."

_That… _he hadn't been expecting. Was this guy flirting? Whether he was or not, Ritsuka felt his face go hot and he hid it from sight under the guise of dipping his over his water glass for a sip. When he sat back up, Soubi was still watching him, smiling faintly, almost predatorily. Ritsuka was glad for the arrival of his soup, which forced the attention away from himself for a few moments."So…" said Ritsuka when the waiter had gone, wanting desperately to get back to more comfortable topics. "How old are you anyway?"

Soubi's lips twitched. "How old am I...hmm. I'm 29 next month. Downright ancient by comparison to you, I'm sure?"

"I'm 18." At least it was something he could be honest about. "I don't really consider 29 old, though. Just mature. People my age are kind of stupid."

Soubi chuckled - a soft "heh" of amusement. "It would be kind to your generation if I protested...but I'd really rather not lie to you. However, you don't seem stupid in the least. I've been wondering whether or not you're a college student."

"I want to be," he answered, without even thinking about what he as saying. "I want to so much. There's a school of Psychology on the east end of the city. It's really good and the program seems like a lot of work, but I know I could do it. It's just... really expensive." He sighed and looked longingly down at his reflection on the surface of his soup.

At that point, their meals appeared, steaming hot and looking perfectly delicious. Ritsuka didn't stop to wonder if Soubi was religious and wanted to say grace beforehand; he just dug in.

"Hmmm..." Soubi murmured. "Higher education doesn't come cheaply, it's true. Are you saving money for it now? Do you have a job?"

Ritsuka replied, but his mouth was so full that every syllable was completely incoherent. Soubi didn't seem offended in the least, simply asked him to repeat himself. Ritsuka swallowed down his mouthful with a swig of tea.

"Sorry. I said I'm looking for work. I've been looking for three days now, but no one seems to be hiring. No ones hiring ME at least." He poked at a ravioli square. "I kind of wanted to ask you about that. Do you have any more errands I could do for you? Maybe even clean up your place while you're at work? ...You do work?" His eyes swept over Soubi's superior wardrobe.

Soubi coughed. Ritsuka couldn't tell if he was trying to hide laughter or discomfort. But he knew the cough was meant to hide something.

"I work," said Soubi. "I'm a consultant. Clients come to me and I advise them on entertainment. And I provide it, when I have what they're looking for. As for your question...I actually do find myself in need of help. Business is growing...I could use someone to take care of the everyday things...when would you be available?"

"Right away," he answered, his mouth again full. "Can I start tomorrow?"

Soubi smiled. "Tomorrow is perfect." And he speared a ravioli on his fork with something like triumph.

—

_-Magic Mind & BC3_


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **Guess whaat? Notice the change in rating. We've jacked it up. That's right…this chapter contains **YAOI!** You have been warned!

Also, notice the title change. We werent feeling the last one and thought something more crass ought to do.

REVIEWERS! Thank you so much! We love the ones we've gotten so far! And it's great to see Seimei lovers! We didn't expect such enthusiams but are ecstatic about it!

Enough with the chatter! Please enjoy the third installment of Soubi's Whorehouse!

Oh yeah—- Wii no own Loveless.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 3<strong>

Ritsuka squinted at the paper in his hands and matched the number against the apartment building before him. So this was where Soubi lived. It looked really nice. He didn't expect to be so impressed but…. Soubi must be _loaded. _The buildings beyond the large iron gate were cocoa brown and elaborately decorated with Corinthian columns along the porches and a frieze with high relief mythical carvings. There was rolls of grass and small ornamental bushes along curvy stone paths, all immaculately groomed.

Ritsuka stared up at the three-story structures with his jaw slightly open, then consulted the paper again and pressed a button on a call box outside the gate. It buzzed cheerily. A moment later he heard Soubi's voice.

"Yes?"

Ritsuka pressed the button again and leaned in close to speak. "Soubi, it's me. Ritsuka."

"Very good. Please come up. It's the first building on your immediate left."

Ritsuka heard another buzz and the gate lock thunked and then swung open.

He didn't like to admit it to himself, but he was a little nervous. Or a lot nervous. Soubi had given him a job to do - which he was very glad for, especially because Soubi had promised to pay him well - but the job was...

Well. It was weird.

As he climbed the stairs to Soubi's top-floor apartment, he went over the job description again. Soubi had told him that he wanted another sketch done. This time, though, he wanted it to be based on live, sitting models. Nude ones.

"They're friends of mine." Soubi had said with a slight smile. "They also happen to be homosexual, and a couple. I do hope that doesn't bother you. They'd like a drawing made and I'd love to give them one. As a gift, you understand. You came to mind instantly...I know you can draw them beautifully."

And since Ritsuka had no other means of income, desperately needed money, and truthfully WASN'T bothered by homosexuality, he'd said, "Sure. When and where?"

They had decided in four days, on Tuesday. Soubi had scribbled down his address and told him which bus to take. He had even given him a bus token so he didn't have to pay, claiming he had an extra on hand. Ritsuka found this a little strange as well—Soubi never took the bus. Never that he had seen, at least.

Soubi was standing on the small porch beneath an awning when Ritsuka walked up, and the sight of his violet eyes and mystical smirk half-hidden behind cigarette smoke helped settle his nerves a bit. Over the past several days, Ritsuka had met with him every afternoon to collect his list of errands and again every evening for dinner and to collect his pay. It wasn't enough to save up and pay for somewhere to live, but it bought him food and clean clothes from the laundry mat. He'd also been able to buy a new sketchpad— his had been completely ruined during the milk incident.

"Good afternoon," Said Soubi. "I trust you found it okay?"

"Yes. I hate to admit it, but I'm really impressed.

"Soubi looked more than pleased by this confession. He stubbed out his cigarette in a crystal dish set into the stucco of the balcony's ledge and gestured for him to go inside. "Never judge a book by its cover. However, I trust you'll find the inside to your liking as well."

Ritsuka felt his stomach flip again. Inside were the two boys he would be drawing, the both of them only a year older than himself. And he'd be drawing them naked. In all honesty he wasn't sure if he was more curious or embarrassed about the whole thing. He steadied himself and walked inside, feeling his shoes sink into carpet that was at least two inches thick and the color of beige sand. He immediately slipped them off and set them on the shoe cabinet.

Soubi came in behind him and closed the door. "Well?" he asked. "Does it meet your approval?"

The décor was elegant and the rooms spacious. It felt like he'd stepped into a clipping from a modern home magazine in which the decorator had a special fondness for leather furniture and glass accents. Soft piano music was playing from invisible speakers, and it was comfortably warm.

"This place… is so cool."

"Youji, Natsuo," Soubi called. "The artist has arrived."

"Soubi! Don't call me 'the artist.' It's embarrassing."

Soubi led him into what looked like a sitting room. It was lit in strategic places with soft lamps and there was a large chaise lounge in the center, upholstered in heavy cream-colored silk.

It looked as though the models were ready and waiting for him. They were lying on the lounge together, completely nude and in far too intimate a pose for Ritsuka's comfort. He felt like was intruding on a sexual encounter just by looking at them.

"Hi. I'm Natsuo," one said pleasantly, smiling at him. He sounded completely at ease with the situation. His hair was thick and wavy, a sort of burgundy red. And he was lying face up on the lounge, slightly inclined. His arms were wrapped low around the waist of a boy on top of him - one who seemed even less self-conscious than himself, if that were possible.

"And I'm Youji," that one said. He was smirking and his eyes were positively gleaming with mirth. His hair was a brilliant spearmint green and it fanned out evenly over Natsuo's bare chest. "You've gotta be Rituska. We've heard a lot about you."

Something about that seemed to be highly amusing, for he starting chuckling after he said it. Natsuo joined in. Even as they laughed and laughed, neither of them could seem to take their eyes off of Ritsuka. It made him feel like HE were the one on display.

"Yeah...that's me." Ritsuka said. He tightened his arm around his sketch pad. "Hi."

"Well don't just stand there," Youji said, still smirking. "You gonna start drawing or what?"

"You'll have to excuse Youji." Soubi touched Ritsuka's shoulder and with a light pressure, led him over to a thickly padded armchair in front of the subjects. "He lacks brain to mouth censorship. But really, he's harmless."

"And hard," said Youji, adjusting himself a bit. "We need to get this over with so I can-"

"Ritsuka, how about some tea?" Asked Soubi. He was shooting an extremely disgusted look in Youji's direction. Natsuo had a hand over his mouth, trying to muffle the very apparent snickering leaking between his fingers.

Ritsuka couldn't understand what was so funny. Did he look like a complete idiot to them or something? Had Soubi told them that he was?

"Umm...yeah. Thanks." he said, more out of a desire to be polite than an desire for the tea. Soubi walked away then, presumably to fetch it.

The armchair was extremely comfortable, plush and squashy. Ritsuka felt like it would have been a lovely place to take a nap. The overpass was still his home at this point and his spine had taken to loudly protesting many of his movements, having been made to suffer the cold concrete for night after night. Ritsuka had tried the homeless shelter when his name had come up on the list but he'd found it severely lacking. There was no end to the crying babies, the hyperactive children, the odd smells...and being surrounded by so many strangers at once really unnerved him. He had gotten more sleep under the overpass. So that is where he'd stayed ever since.

Soubi came back with a small teacup and saucer and set it down on an end table to Ritsuka's right.

"Now then, " he said briskly. "You can take all the time you need, Ritsuka. And don't feel obligated to withstand any chatter these two might make." He turned to look at Youji and Natsuo, subtly narrowing his eyes. "Because they are to be still, calm, and QUIET for the duration."

As if he could finally hold his tongue no longer, Natsuo's shutters of silent laughter finally ceased. "That has GOT to be the most unsexy thing you have ever said in your life."

"No kidding. At least it took care of my erection." Said Youji, looking thoroughly put out about it. "Still, calm, and quiet? Ritsuka, never have sex with this guy. Sounds like he wants to do it with a Buddha statue."

"You're too lively for that," Natsuo added.

Ritsuka felt his cheeks erupt in a ferocious blush. First all this talk of erections and then...having sex with Soubi? Where did that come from? Had Soubi said something to them? Did he...WANT to sleep with Ritsuka?

The thought made Ritsuka blush even harder. What if Soubi was...but surely not? ...Right?

He glanced up at him. Soubi didn't look like he was planning to get inside Ritsuka's pants. He looked rather pissed off, really - his eyes were like slits, trained on Youji and Natsuo.

"As I said, you'll have to excuse them." Soubi said, clearly to Ritsuka, even though he still was focused on the boys. "They were never taught anything resembling manners. And in fact, they are both on shaky ground with their employer."

Natsuo coughed then, obviously trying to fight down his mirth. Youji just shifted some more against him and shot something like a sneer at Soubi.

Ritsuka thought this was quite possibly the strangest group of "friends" he'd ever encountered.

He took an unsure sip of tea, just to have something to do really, then flipped open his sketchpad to a fresh page and began to draw. His subjects were pretty cooperative for a time, but soon seemed to be getting restless again. Youji had one of those faces Ritsuka loved to outline. All smooth lines and perfectly symmetrical, with a wide forehead, large eyes, and a small pointed chin. His enjoyment must have shown, because Youji's plastic smile suddenly widened sinisterly.

"Ritsuka, if you keep looking at me like that I'm going to get hard all over again."

It threw him off for a moment, and his heart began to thud. But then he thought about what Soubi said, to not feel obligated to withstand any of their chatter. They were all talk. That was all. If he acted scared, they'd prey on him all the more.

Fighting the blush from his face, he said, "There aren't many people with faces as perfectly oval as yours. It's interesting to draw, but it doesn't mean I want to sleep with you. Get over yourself."

"Ooo, he's a feisty one," said Natsuo. "That's hot. Now _I'm _getting hard."

Ritsuka saw Youji roll his hips forward immediately at that, right up against Natsuo's. Natsuo gave something of a contented sigh.

Ritsuka dropped his eyes to his sketchpad again, hastily getting back to some detail work on Youji's face. It felt hugely uncomfortable to sit here watching while Youji practically humped his naked boyfriend. And yet...Ritsuka felt something more than discomfort.

Suddenly he felt hands on his shoulders. Soubi was standing behind his chair, probably checking on his drawing and making sure it was up to par.

"They can be annoying at the best of times," Ritsuka heard him murmur, almost as if he were talking to no one but himself. "And yet...there are also times when the pair of them can be almost..."

Soubi never finished his sentence, but Ritsuka was sure he knew what he had been about to say.

The pair of them could be almost beautiful.

Ritsuka's initial impression was that these were two of the most obnoxious, sexually immoral boys he had ever met in his life. But as an "artist," Ritsuka couldn't help but notice the change that occurred whenever their eyes met. It was so subtle he doubted that even the two of them were aware of it, but it was there. Ritsuka had only seen people look at each other like that in the movies, certainly never between his parents. These two were a couple, Soubi had said. Did they even realize they were in love with each other? Had they figured that out?

The music swirling around him was soft and hypnotizing, and Soubi's hands were warm on his shoulders, his fingers skimming lightly down his arms. Ritsuka felt a shiver race down his spine when Soubi's voice hummed again in his ear.

"It's hard for most people to see the magic, but as artist's, Ritsuka, it's in our nature. Every curve is sensual, every touch charged with lust. Can you capture that in your drawing? You can feel it, can't you?"

Ritsuka felt vaguely helpless, unable to answer with anything but a nod. He could certainly feel it. And if he could feel it...he ought to be able to capture it.

He was working on the curve of Youji's back now, following it down from his shoulders to his waist. And from there, it was inevitable that Ritsuka reach the part where he had to draw Youji's rear, almost as rounded and curved as a woman's would be.

Soubi's fingertips were skimming the insides of his elbows. "You're doing very well. The image is already...evocative. They're probably going to remember this moment when they look at it. And feel the lust all over again. And they'll know that you felt it too, as you were drawing."

Ritsuka swallowed, shifting a bit in his seat. His charcol pencil was motionless in his hand for the moment.

"It's alright..." Soubi was saying softly into his ear. "It's alright to feel it. Let yourself."

He was feeling it for sure, and he was pretty sure most of it was Soubi's touch and how close he was and all that breath. Ritsuka swallowed hard and felt another shiver break through him.

Whether Soubi realized what he was doing or not...Ritsuka couldn't say. Maybe he really was simply entranced by the art. Maybe he cared deeply for these friends of his and wanted them to have a really good portrait.

Or maybe Soubi was purposefully arousing Ritsuka, and had meant to do so from the start.

If that was the case...he was succeeding.

Terrified Soubi would look down and notice the state he was in, he set his pencil in motion again, concentrating hard on the lines and curves as nothing BUT lines and curves; trying his best to pretend he couldn't feel Soubi's breath against his neck and that his pulse wasn't fluttering madly in his wrists. He finished the rest quickly, and abruptly stood when he did, relieved and also slightly disappointed at the absence of Soubi's hands on him; he had artists fingers, that was for sure, all long and graceful. Ritsuka shuddered and crossed the room to Youji and Natsuo, who were now sitting up and (thankfully) pulling on robes.

"What do you think?" Ritsuka asked, handing it to Youji, who had already finished tying his sash. He was a lot taller than he had looked lying down, about a head taller than Ritsuka, and when Natsuo stood, it was apparent he was approximately the same height as his mate.

Youji was looking at it with bemusement, leaned close to Natsuo to give him a look, then turned it sideways. "Does my ass really look that good or are you just really hot for me?"

For the first time Ritsuka met his gaze and saw, to his amazement, that Youji wasn't as intimidating as he'd initially seemed. His eyes were sparkling with amusement, and Ritsuka smiled. "I never doctor up sketches. What you see is what you get."

Youji smirked widely and pushed at Ritsuka's shoulder. He really wasn't intimidating at all...he was remarkably playful, really. "I knew I liked you." he said. Then, as if suddenly remembering something, he glanced around the room. "Hey Pervo Creep, where'd you go? Are you off masturbating in the darkest corner of the room?"

"He means Soubi," Natsuo said to Ritsuka, sotto voce. "Pet name."

The man himself suddenly appeared, strolling through the door blithely. "I was making a phone call. I have a job for you in two hours so you'd better get going."

"What, both of us?" Asked Natsuo.

Soubi threw clothes at them—two pairs of black pants with matching boxers, one white shirt and one blue. "That's right, it's a double order and you two were requested especially. I think you remember Mr. Takahashi?"

Youji snorted loudly.

"Oh, No," said Natsuo, hiking up his pants. "Seriously? And I was having such a good day."

"Least he's quick," said Youji. "Ugh, lets just get this over with as soon as we can. I don't think he'd mind if we showed up a bit early. Let's take the bus."

Natsuo put Youji's shirt over his head for him. "Good thinking. Hey, Ritsuka, do you want to ride with us? You're from the west side, right?"

"Actually." Soubi pulled a cigarette out of a silver case with his lips. "I wanted to invited Ritsuka to stay for dinner."

The embarrassing part wasn't that Soubi almost made that sound like he was asking him on a date, but that Ritsuka felt his body throb in reaction to the thought of being alone with Soubi here, in his apartment, when it was about to be getting dark. The way Soubi was smiling at him made Ritsuka wonder if maybe Soubi knew exactly what he was thinking.

…Did Ritsuka WANT to stay?

He did. But he wasn't ready for that sort of thing. And besides… what if he was just imaging this? There wasn't any way someone as successful and attractive as Soubi would be interested in him. Was there?

He used to live on the west side, it was true, but now it was rather out of the way of his overpass. Still, it was better than hanging out here and making a fool of himself.

"That's really nice of you, but I actually have some things I need to do tonight. I should be getting back home soon."

This time Ritsuka saw plainly the disappointment on Soubi's face; there wasn't any way he was mistaking that. He felt kind of bad for him, but if Soubi was lonely Ritsuka was sure he must have plenty of friends he could call up. He looked like he was a pretty popular guy.

"The offer is open anytime," Soubi said, rather graciously. "And here..." he pulled a black leather wallet out of his back pocket, rifling through it and pulling out a handful of bills. "You did great work."

He held them out to Ritsuka, clearly indicating that Ritsuka would have to be the one to cross the distance between them.

Soubi's hand was incredibly smooth, Ritsuka discovered, when it brushed against his as the money exchanged hands. Almost as if Soubi had never done a day's labor in his life. Ritsuka knew that his own must have felt like sandpaper by comparison. The dry winter air had chafed them every night, and the concrete had done much worse.

...the payment was shockingly high.

As if he'd predicted that Ritsuka would protest, Soubi held up a hand and smiled. "As I said...you did great work."

Ritsuka took it with an awestruck, "thank you," wondering if this guy was always going to leave him feeling so flattered and confused. "I'll see you tomorrow then."

"I'm looking very much forward to it, as usual." He reached out and brushed a piece of stray hair back from Ritsuka's face. The touch re-ignited the flame in his stomach and seemed to paralyze his lungs.

"CREE-per!" Sung Natsuo.

Youji seized Ritsuka by the wrist and pulled him toward Natsuo, who already had the door open. "Come on, Ritsuka. Before he rapes you. I don't like the look in his eyes."

Ritsuka couldn't stop himself—he looked back as Youji dragged him away, trying to see exactly what it was Youji didn't like. Indeed there was something smoldering there, but Soubi always looked that way. …Was Soubi really hitting on him? Ritsuka was a little worried about how ridiculously excited that made him feel.

As soon as Youji had him out the door, Natsuo followed through as well and slammed it shut.

"Seriously," he said, starting down the stairs. "That guy has it in for you."

"Correction: he would LIKE to have it in for you." Youji remarked. Natsuo giggled.

Ritsuka didn't know what to say. Wasn't it rude to talk about a friend like that?

"Is he...honestly as out of control as you say?" he asked.

When they made it out of Soubi's building, Ritsuka saw that the sun was already low on the horizon, mixing reds and oranges and yellows in its rays.

"Nah..." said Natsuo. "Well...actually, yes. Soubi is a total pervert. But he's one of the best businessmen in this city. He's helped Youji and I out a lot."

"How'd he help? Do you actually work for his company?"

They exchanged glances over his head. Ritsuka hated how he had to tilt his head back to look up at them; it was like walking between two moving skyscrapers.

"His _company_," Natsuo repeated, as if testing out the words. "Has Soubi told you what he does?"

"He's in the entertainment industry."

They exchanged glances again, this time pointed and amused. "Figures," said Natsuo. "But yeah, that's basically right. We work for his 'company'. If it wasn't for that, Youji and I would be shivering away at the homeless shelter right now. And trust me, Ritsuka, you never want to stay a night in that place."

_'Tell me about it_,' he almost said. He almost even wanted to say it. He couldn't believe these two had actually been in his situation.

"Why would you be there? Don't you have parents?"

"I don't," said Youji. "I've been an orphan since birth. Natsuo does, though. Watch your step." He caught Ritsuka's elbow before he could walk off the curb.

"Thanks." Ritsuka straightened himself. He was rather surprised Youji wasn't an older brother-he kind of acted like one, and it seemed instinctive. But maybe he was simply used to being around a lot of younger orphans. Ritsuka waited until they had made it safely over the crosswalk before asking, "What happened to them?"

"Nothing. I ran away when I was fifteen to be with Youji," said Natsuo, with the first notes of bitterness creeping into his tone that Ritsuka had heard. "I don't think they minded that I had a boyfriend so much as they minded that it was Youji. They didn't like him. Judgmental bastards looked down on him the moment they met him."

"When was that?" Ritsuka felt a little hesitant about prying, but he was really curious. He'd never met a same sex couple before. And so far they seemed to be open books, so it couldn't hurt.

"In middle school," said Youji. "Maybe it wouldn't have been so bad if he had introduced me as a friend first."

"… But weren't you friends first?"

"For about a week," said Natsuo, grinning. "The attraction was instantaneous, so naturally we weren't having any of that 'lets just be friends' bullshit. There was no point."

"I don't really do 'friends,' anyway. They annoy me," added Youji.

They kind of annoyed Ritsuka too, so it was perfectly understandable to him. He just didn't quite get how they instantly knew the other was attracted to them. How could they tell? Maybe it was one of those things that when you knew, you just did, and you didn't have to question it. If that were true, then Soubi couldn't really be interested. Ritsuka didn't feel sure about anything with that guy.

They turned a corner and saw that the bus was already loading passengers at the pick up stop, and they broke into a run to catch it before the doors hissed closed. There wasn't a space available for them all to sit together, so Youji smiled rather nastily down at a group of elementary aged children on the bench along the back row. They nudged one another and then filed away toward the front of the bus, looking rather a lot like frightened puppies. This must have been typical Youji behavior, because Natsuo sat as if he hadn't noticed a thing, while Ritsuka wondered if maybe Youji suffered from some form of bi-polar disorder.

"So what about you, Ritsuka?" Asked Youji once the bus was in motion. "Girlfriends? Boyfriends?"

Ritsuka shook his head. He'd never been in a romantic relationship before, but he wasn't sure he wanted to share that with them. They might think he was a loser. That didn't really bother him, but it would bother him a lot if they told Soubi and _he _thought he was a loser.

"A free agent, huh?" Youji grinned. "Soubi will love that."

"So are you going to give him a go?" asked Natsuo. He smiled at Ritsuka. "He's totally trying to get into your pants, you know."

Ritsuka inhaled too sharply at that. He was mortified to find himself suddenly falling victim to an intense hacking cough. He could feel his eyes watering and his lungs straining inside his chest, unable to get enough air.

"Oh man...wonder if that means Soubi's gonna be disappointed," Natsuo said. He slapped his hand against Ritsuka's back a few times.

"I somehow doubt that," Youji told him. He was watching Ritsuka with a knowing smirk.

Trying desperately to recover, Ritsuka mentally flailed. Did Youji know how his body had reacted to Soubi's touch earlier? Could he tell that Ritsuka had considered that dinner offer?

"Hey, it's fine if you are, you know." Natsuo cut in, still pounding on Ritsuka's back. "Soubi's hot in an...uptight perv kind of way."

"I-I don't know," he said, when he had finally recovered.

"You don't know," said Youji, very slowly.

"I mean," said Ritsuka, hating himself for blushing. He could feel the heat of it burning up his cheeks. "I don't really… is… he isn't married?"

They both burst into laughter.

"Can you see Soubi in a tux?" Natsuo tapped Youji playfully. "it'd totally suit his arrogant prick ass."

"Soubi's never been married and I doubt he ever well be," Youji told Ritsuka. "He's into boys."

"_Young _boys." Natsuo made claws with his hand as he said this, as if indicating the creepiness of it.

"How young?" This didn't sound like a bad deal to Ritsuka; he would need Soubi to be interested in people younger than himself if he stood a chance.

"Well, I dunno," said Youji. "How old are _you _these days? Five?"

Ritsuka's eyelids lowered with exasperation. "Hilarious. I haven't heard that one before."

"Awww, be Serious, Youji. I think Ritsuka's getting a thing for him." Natsuo was smiling at him, kind of the same way his mother had once smiled at him when a girl had made him homemade tarts—like she knew exactly what was transpiring between them. God, it was annoying.

"Don't be like that, Ritsuka," said Youji, apparently noticing his shift in mood. "Young looks are a good thing, especially if you want to eventually be recruited to Soubi's…er…_company."_

"He's right you know," said Natsuo. "Soubi likes them young and he likes them cute. He's able to make better deals that way. But personally, he's never been in an exclusive relationship that we know of. The closest he's come to that is our um, our _coworker._"

"Oh." Ritsuka felt a definite pang in his stomach, like he'd swallowed too much thick oatmeal. "Are they seeing each other?"

They both shrugged.

"I don't think it's really like that," said Natsuo. "You know, serious. Kio has been in love with Soubi forever, but Soubi just treats him like an obnoxious pet. I think he's more fond of Kio than he really lets on, probably so that he doesn't lead him on. Kio is older than us, though. He's twenty-four."

"We've seen them sneaking off places and then we hear all this noise." Youji laughed. "Kio is a moaner. Hey! This is our stop."

Ritsuka was jarred, both by Youji's complete non-sequitur and by the knowledge that Soubi regularly had sex with this Kio person. There was too much going on - both inside him and around him - for him to process right now.

Youji and Natsuo were getting up, bracing themselves with the bar that ran overhead.

"You coming, Ritsuka? Is your place here too?" Natsuo asked.

Ritsuka managed to pull himself out of his fog long enough to answer. "Uh...no, mine's the next one."

"Well..." Youji said, grinning. "You're cute and you don't seem insane. I'm glad to meet you, Ritsuka."

Natsuo laughed. He ruffled Ritsuka's hair, staring down at him. "Me too. See you around - especially if Soubi has his way. Bye!"

And before Ritsuka knew it, they were ambling off the bus together.

Ritsuka was stuck riding the bus for nearly an hour after that. His overpass wasn't at all near here and he had to wait for the bus to make it back to the station to get closer. The ride was lonely and quiet. Ritsuka didn't have much to see out of the windows, only the gray brick walls of random buildings and cracked sidewalks. There wasn't much sound beyond the hum of the bus engine and the squeaking of its wheels. All Ritsuka had to think about was his emotional state, which right now could have used a Prozac or two. His stomach was in knots over Soubi's boytoy Kio and nothing he could tell himself would ease the tension.

When he got off the bus at the station, Ritsuka was still wishing for that Prozac.

—

Ritsuka had trouble falling asleep that night. Not that sleep had been easy since he took up residency in his overpass, but it was especially difficult with sour feelings and images of a faceless Kio swarming his thoughts.

Surely he was cute—hadn't Natsuo said that Soubi likes them that way? What made Soubi like him more than anyone else? Maybe he was funny. It was easy to get Soubi to laugh, but never a true gut-rolling laugh. Maybe Kio was the only person who could. Or maybe he was just interesting. Ritsuka never had anything very entertaining to talk about. And God, did he sound like a five year old? He knew Youji was grossly over exaggerating how young Ritsuka looked, but maybe he behaved childishly too. Kio was twenty-four; probably he was as cool and collected as Soubi was, and Ritsuka… well, he was just a mess.

Paranoia began to creep in as these thoughts chased each other around, and eventually Ritsuka feel into an uneasy sleep. Usually upsetting thoughts would spill over into nightmares, so he was surprised the next morning to awaken after a particularly pleasant dream.

He had been back in Soubi's apartment, but this time it was the beautiful stranger who had given him the milk who lay on the chaise lounge, waiting to be sketched. Only he was asleep, and he appeared to be naked from the waist up. A peach colored silk blanket was draped over his legs and hips. Ritsuka could see the slow, deep breaths rising and falling in his chest.

Those breaths were anything but similar to Ritsuka's own. He could feel his breath coming in short bursts...his heart beating powerfully in his chest. Every beat felt like it had been made by a timpani drum. His blood was pumping so forcefully that Ritsuka could feel his heartbeat in his palms.

He put his sketch aside and crossed the room on careful legs, not wanting to wake him. The invisible speakers played a crystal melody, soft and inviting. He paused just in front of the man and stared, trying hard not to blink so he wouldn't have to stop for even a second. He was remarkably perfect.

Enchanted, Ritsuka reached a hand out, fingers stretching toward the dark lashes curled again soft almond cheeks.

…That's when a trucks horn had sounded overhead, and Ritsuka woke with a start.

He was mentally cursing out that truck as he made his way over to Chai's to meet Soubi. They'd taken to meeting there each morning for Ritsuka to pick up his errand list. Though he was grateful for having work, this morning he felt supremely annoyed with the world in general. He didn't much feel like going about town and doing Soubi's bidding.

Soubi was waiting in his usual corner booth, shrouded in smoke, as usual. Ritsuka was surprised to see a cup of coffee in front of him. Usually Soubi subsisted on nicotine alone. For breakfast, anyway.

"Good morning, Ritsuka," Soubi said cordially when Ritsuka approached. He lowered his cigarette and smiled.

Plopping himself down into the booth, Ritsuka replied with nothing more than, "Who's Kio?"

Soubi blinked, his smile falling. "Are you not having a good morning?"

"I'll tell you if it's a good morning after you tell me about Kio. Is he your boyfriend?"

"He's an employee. And, if one uses the word loosely, a friend. Not nearly as talented with a pencil as you are. Speaking of...I wanted to request another sketch today. Another one of me. However...I'd prefer this one to be done nude."

Ritsuka opened his mouth to snap out a few more questions (the walk over here had given the thought of Kio plenty of time to worsen his mood), then quickly changed course as Soubi's words sunk in and took root.

"I- What?"

Soubi took a long drag of his cigarette, then turned his eyes toward the window. As he contemplated it, he blew out lungfuls of smoke, saying, "I very much enjoyed what you created with Youji and Natsuo. I want one of myself. I assure you that I'm a better behaved model than either of them are."

Staring wordlessly at Soubi staring out the window, Ritsuka felt his brain grind to a halt, then jolt into overdrive.

Soubi was asking him to come back to his apartment? And draw a sketch of HIM? NUDE? As in, with no clothes? ALONE?

...or?

"W-will you be posing with anyone?" He asked.

"No." Soubi said. He tore his eyes away from the window finally and looked Ritsuka in the eye. "It will be only me."

Ritsuka's mouth went dry. That hot thobbing sensation he'd experienced the previous day was back, directing all his blood to either his cheeks or directly below his belt line.

He seriously had no idea if he would be able to stare at this guy naked and not give himself away. It was impossible. And he still wanted to. But words seemed to have completely escaped him, and he was reduced to stunned staring.

Soubi reached out and brushed a bit of Ritsuka's hair away from his eyes, just as he had done the day before, in his apartment. His eyes were smoldering again, more brightly than the end of his still-burning cigarette. They wouldn't move from Ritsuka's.

"Will you do this for me?" Soubi asked.

A small whimper escaped him, and his blush burned darker. "Um. O-okay. When did you-?"

"Today." Soubi said. He pulled back, and his eyes lost a bit of their magic. He picked up his coffee cup and drained everything inside it. "Soon, in fact. I do hope you don't have any other plans for this morning."

Breakfast had originally been on the agenda, but he doubted his stomach's ability to hold anything at the moment, summersalting as it was. He shook his head. "Not unless you have errands for me to do."

"The sketch is all I want today." Soubi told him. And that, it seemed, was that.

* * *

><p>The experience turned out to be a lot more comfortable than Ritsuka had anticipated on the awkward walk to Soubi's apartment. Soubi was very professional and a much better candidate than Youji and Natsuo had been. He had remained perfectly still on the same chaise lounge, positioned exactly like Michelangelo's "Creation of Adam."<p>

With his head turned away, Ritsuka was able to relax, even when a bulge began to form behind the zip of his corduroy jeans. Soubi's body was as beautiful as he'd suspected, all smooth muscle beneath milky skin. His assets were impressive, but not scarily huge, and Ritsuka found his eyes lingering there just a little too long.

"I'm finished." It had taken a little more than forty minutes, but Ritsuka was particularly proud of this one. He had put extra effort into it.

Soubi nodded and gracefully stood up, pulling a robe out of nearby closet and shrugging into it. As he tied the sash around his waist, he tilted his chin up in the direction of Ritsuka's sketchpad. "May I have a look?"

Ritsuka swallowed. He was less comfortable now than he had been while he was drawing. Standing up and walking over required certain parts of him to be in full view.

Reminding himself that now was no time for cowardice, he dutifully brought over the portrait.

Soubi took a seat on the lounge, patting the spot next to him and indicating that Ritsuka should sit with him. Together they looked over the piece.

"I thought more shading here," Ritsuka said, moving his fingers over Soubi's sketched face. "And less on here," they lingered over his chest. "It makes the atmospheric perspective softer somehow."

Soubi made an acknowledging sound and continued to study it, fingers pressed thoughtfully to his lips.

"What do you think?" Ritsuka asked, sounding small and scared. Internally, he scolded himself.

"I think it's exactly what I expected from you." Soubi said, not lifting his eyes from the portrait. "It's wonderful work."

Ritsuka felt himself blush with pride. He really HAD tried so hard on this...it felt so good to be appreciated.

Soubi reached behind Ritsuka and pulled his wallet off of the end table next to the lounge.

"You deserve more for this one..." he murmured. He was pulling out bill after bill. "I would be a thief to give you any less."

"That's really kind of you," said Ritsuka. Soubi was still counting out bills. "But I think you're ripping yourself off. I'm not even a professional."

"You are now." Soubi said with a smirk. "By definition. You have been paid for your work. In fact, you've been paid for it multiple times. That makes you a professional."

He folded the bills neatly in half and pressed them into Ritsuka's hand.

Ritsuka breathed a soft laugh, shaking his head. "Well, I'm not going to argue, Soubi. I really need the money. Thank you. This will help me a lot."

Soubi nodded quietly...thoughtfully, it seemed. "Ritsuka..." he began, meeting Ritsuka's gaze and holding it. "There is a way to make more money than this, you know. Much more."

"I've already tried selling sketches. It seems you're the only one who wants to buy them." Ritsuka lifted his hips to tuck the money into his back pocket. "Maybe I'd have more luck at a gallery. You think I should try?"

Soubi smiled slightly. "Well...you surely can. But galleries are no guarantee. There's another way to make money - a lot of it. And quickly. And guaranteed."

Was he kidding? There was no way money could be made so easily or there wouldn't be homeless people. Was it possible Soubi wanted to give him a real job? Maybe with his company. He could work with Youji and Natsuo!

"How?" He asked. "Are you going to hire me on permanently?"

Soubi just watched him for a moment, as if coming to a decision on the spot.

"That is an option I'd certainly be willing to discuss with you," he eventually said. "You seem qualified...extremely qualified..."

And now Soubi was looking at Ritsuka in an entirely different way. In a...a HUNGRY way.

Ritsuka didn't know where the sensation was coming from, but he suddenly felt endangered...like he was prey.

"Of course...that wouldn't have to be settled today." Soubi continued. "Right now...you have something I badly want. And I have something you badly need. I think I know of a way for us to help each other."

"...how?" Ritsuka asked.

Soubi smiled slowly, intently, at Ritsuka. "You're a smart young man, Ritsuka. You're honest...caring...attractive."

Ritsuka blushed.

"And you've been so helpful to me. I've enjoyed your company so much these past days. Just to see you each morning...knowing you'll be there..."

Ritsuka felt Soubi's palm gently cradle his jaw. At the touch, Ritsuka's heart sped up tenfold.

"Sometimes friends do each other...small favors." Soubi continued, his thumb grazing gently back and forth over Ritsuka's cheek. "Services. We're friends, aren't we, Ritsuka?"

Ritsuka nodded unthinkingly.

"And so surely you could do me one of these favors...I'd repay you for it, you know. Much, much more than I paid you for the drawing."

And he slid his hand against Ritsuka's throat...over his shoulder and chest...and farther still, to rest on top of Ritsuka's thigh.

With a jolt, Ritsuka inhaled sharply at the unexpected sensation. Heat spread like melted butter between his thighs. His thoughts seemed to have scattered and hid completely, an empty buzzing filling there place.

"Wh-what kind of, of favors?" he stammered.

Soubi's thumb began to move in slow strokes over Ritsuka's thigh.

"I'm sure that by now you can guess," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

He felt like he might hyperventilate. The sensual strumming against his thigh was sending sparks up his legs and he was starting to tremble. "That...that would be prostitution. My body for money."

Soubi leaned in closer at that, sliding his hand a fraction higher up. His violet eyes seemed almost to be glowing as he spoke.

"It would be generosity. Your body for a friend."

"I...haven't ever..." Ritsuka broke off, ashamed he had no experience. He didn't want Soubi to know that, but suddenly it felt important he know Ritsuka had no idea what he was doing.

Soubi nodded, as if he'd known this all along. "It's nothing to be ashamed of. We were all in the same position once, after all."

The words really WERE whispers this time, spoken right into Ritsuka's ear.

Ritsuka shuddered and felt himself swell further inside his jeans. Absently, his hands closed into fists around Soubi's shirt.

"Let me, Ritsuka. I promise it will feel good."

He could swear he felt his brain die. Suddenly he didn't have the ability to protest any longer, or ask questions, or form thoughts at all, or even _breathe, _yet a lone whimper worked its way past his lips, the noise helpless and wanton.

He felt Soubi's hands encircle his waist, his fingers lying just along the ridges of Ritsuka's hipbones...was Soubi kneeling in front of him? He was. ...and somehow he'd maneuvered himself in between Ritsuka's knees. Ritsuka couldn't remember when that had happened. Things were all foggy right now.

"Relax," he heard a voice whisper, and then there was a pair of cool lips on his.

Soubi was no first-timer. Ritsuka was clutching at his shirt even harder now...scared that this "favor" was going to last an embarrassingly short time. He took two shallow breaths, and then Soubi's mouth was gently coaxing his open. Ritsuka parted his lips and tasted a hint of mentholated smoke on Soubi's breath as he deepened the kiss with soft, persuasive movements.

He was almost too lost in the sensation to notice that his t-shirt was being lifted up, the hem pushed to his chin. But there was no mistaking it when Soubi's hands slid up over his ribs and to his nipples. Ritsuka gasped. He felt a throaty chuckle vibrate through the kiss. Soubi's hands were playing at him expertly, and Soubi knew it.

Instinctively, Ritsuka began to follow Soubi's lead and started kissing back, the progression on his end slow and a little sloppy, but quickly catching on to the rhythm of it. His breaths were rapid and shallow, his heart fluttering like butterfly wings. He was sure Soubi could feel it beneath his hands.

Soubi pulled back a fraction, just far enough to speak against Ritsuka's mouth. "Lift up," he said. Ritsuka was disappointed to find that he wasn't even breathing hard. His lips were a bit swollen, but that was the only sign that Soubi had been affected at all by the last few minutes.

Well...Ritsuka thought, glancing just below Soubi's belt...perhaps not the only sign.

There was a tapping at Ritsuka's hips - almost impatient. "Lift up," Soubi repeated.

Ritsuka obediently raised his hips off the lounge, leaning back and using his hands for balance, and then he felt Soubi curl his fingers under the waistband of his jeans and tug. They slid off with traitorous ease and fell, forgotten, to the floor. Soubi's hands roamed up his thighs and hips, excruciatingly close to each side of his arousal, then trailed the length of the elastic band on his underwear.

"Yes..." Soubi murmured, looking at parts of Ritsuka that no one had ever seen. "I knew I wasn't wrong..."

Before Ritsuka could piece together exactly what he meant, Soubi slid the palm of his hand directly between Ritsuka's legs.

His hips nearly jerked off the lounge.

Soubi gave one of his chuckles, but this time it was softer and dark, more flighty. His hands rubbed around the cotton material, feeling and cupping with deceptive gentility. Ritsuka's breathing bled off into panting, quiet grunts breaking off one from another. His hips began to twitch impatiently.

"Aren't-aren't you..." Ritsuka managed to get out. "W-wanting...you know..."

Soubi shook his head, miraculously understanding what Ritsuka meant. He sounded perfectly calm. "I'm fine. I'll have what I'm wanting soon."

His hand slid itself beneath the elastic of Ritsuka's smalls and closed in around what it found there.

"And it will be..." he continued, giving Ritsuka a long, firm stroke. "Very, very pleasant indeed."

Ritsuka's grunts tapered into louder, longer moans. He closed his eyes, rocking his head from side to side.

Soubi's hand suddenly tore themselves away from him, and Ritsuka whimpered at their loss. Soubi was slipping open the end table drawer and retrieving a tiny vial filled with clear liquid.

If it were any one else, Ritsuka would have felt embarrassed to watch. But somehow Soubi unzipped and stepped out of his pants and smalls as though it were the most natural, orderly thing in the world. He opened the vial and tapped some of the liquid out into his palm, smoothing it over himself in calculated strokes.

"Turn over."

"I...w-what?" Ritsuka stammered.

"On your stomach. It will be easier that way." Ritsuka did as he was told, too far gone now to consider questioning.

The initial moment was much more painful than he'd anticipated. Ritsuka's hands were scrabbling at the silks under him for purchase, trying his utmost to withstand it. Eventually his body relaxed into a dull acceptance...it wasn't long after that before he realized that the onslaught could actually be pleasurable.

"Relax, Ritsuka," Soubi said, breathing it right against the back of his neck and making a series of chills shoot up his spine. "I'm going to make this really good for you." Soubi's movements were smooth and coordinated, just like his kiss had been. And just like the kiss, Ritsuka began to instinctively respond, pushing back with his hips on every upstroke.

It began to feel good...great, even. Ritsuka felt like his body was alive in a way it never had been before. He whined and pushed his hips back harder.

"That's it," Soubi whispered. "Go on. Do it. For me."

How was Ritsuka supposed to resist it? The feeling of this...Soubi's words...the sounds...how was he supposed to resist what was coming? He couldn't.

With a sudden shock of pleasure, he felt himself spasming and pulsating his release. He dipped his head, panting and trembling as the waves crashed over him. Soubi continued to move behind him, now silent, but the thrusts coming harder until he finally broke into a long, low growl, and everything became hotter and more slippery.

Soubi pulled away and Ritsuka felt a uncomfortable sort of squishing. Then he heard the sound of pants being pulled up, and a wad of bills were placed next to him. More money than he'd ever seen in his life.

"I was absolutely right." Soubi murmured. "You're just as tight as I imagined. I'd love to take you on permanently. You could make this every night on the street. Maybe more."

It was like having a gong placed next to his ear and then banged repeatedly. It shook him completely from his afterglow, which had left him feeling like his bones were melted marshmallows.

"I could—what?" He asked, his ragged breath suddenly tight again.

"Work for me." Soubi said, pulling a cigarette out of God knows where and lighting it. He inhaled a long drag and blew it out slowly before continuing. "Along with Youji and Natsuo."

"Youji and Natsuo," said Ritsuka, getting into a more appropriate position. "are _hookers? _They're _your hookers?" _

Soubi made a clicking noise with his tongue. "They're my boys. They get paid...I get paid...and various men in the city get to spend a night with a young, energetic escort. it's a beneficial arrangement for all involved."

It was too surreal. Ritsuka didn't know if he wanted to scream or laugh because clearly this had to be a joke. A really horrible, stupid, repulsive _joke_.

"Tell me you're lying," He said, his body heating up and not in a good way. He was barely keeping himself in check.

Soubi shrugged elegantly. "I can't see why I would be. Don't reject it out of hand. think about the benefits...steady work, excellent pay, guaranteed home, food...you're shocked now. Everyone is at first. But you'll want to consider it." Soubi took another drag of his cigarette before adding, "Especially if your mother comes to call with her posters again."

Ritsuka paled, a cold chill sweeping through his sweat-dampened body. He straightened himself. "So you know I'm a runaway," he said, heatedly. "So what? Big deal! You manipulated me you selfish bastard!" He took on a grossly over exaggerated tone of flattery, and mimicked, "You're honest...caring...attractive."

Seeming to realize suddenly that he was naked and looked more insane than impressive, he grabbed up his underwear and jeans and began to yank them on. "You said all that just to test if I was good enough to rent out to people!"

Soubi gave one of his small chuckles. "No...I wasn't lying when I called you attractive. This was more than a test. You were very pleasurable to be with."

And there it was, like an oncoming rainstorm that sweeps over the land and begins to hail like ink spilling through water, the tears swelled up in his eyes. Angry, humiliated, frustrated tears. Without a word, he pulled his shirt over his head while he was jamming his feet back into his shoes, and he grabbed his jacket on the way out the door.

"Wait," said Soubi abruptly.

Ritsuka forced himself to pause. The man was worse than sinful but if he wanted to apologize...the least Ritsuka could do would be to hear him out...

Soubi stepped up to him, close. Ritsuka could smell the sex on him as if it were cologne.

"You forgot your earnings," he said, stuffing the bills into Ritsuka's coat pocket.

Ritsuka left without another word.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Magic would like it known that she hates Soubi. That is all.

The second child of Brattiness would like to say we clearly haven't seen the last of Mr. Agatsuma, sooo no worries Soubi fans!

**Reviews please!**

_-Magic Mind & Bratchild3_


	4. Chapter 4

A/N from Magic Mind: just want to say thanks to the reviewers, especially the one who voted for Soubi to die in fire.

A/N from BC3: Really, Magic is a sweet person. Lol Just hardcore into her pairing…as am I. Soooo… we're sorry this took so long. Christmas followed by visitations followed by school enrollment.

The good news is that we got totally carried away and the chapter was well over 10,000 words and 30 pages long. So we broke it up into two chapters. Which means the chapter after this is practically completed as of this moment.

Reviews then please! So that we may post it up faster. We're finally getting to the smutty stuff! HUZZAH! :D

(BTW- We wont change the title again. This is it so hopefully it will suffice.)

—-

**CHAPTER 3**

The hotel stood in grandeur beside an outdoor/indoor cafe and cattycorner to a small park, the structure tall, white, and gleaming beneath the weak December moon. It was edging into the eastern area of the city, but situated more central, which automatically knocked the price per night down a few notches.

Ritsuka stared up at the glowing bronze and green sign fixated over the double entrance. It wasn't the Ritz Carlton, but it was definitely a fine establishment in its own right. He had seen it on the bus ride from yesterday and had a fleeting sense of yearning flitter through him. He was sure it was loaded with deep bathtubs and soft blankets. He knew it was a stupid thing to do, wasting so much money in one night when there were rooms much less expensive to be had. But the thing was he didn't want this money. It felt heavy and dirty in his pocket, like guilt was weighing it down. It wasn't honest money, and Ritsuka couldn't bear to keep it much longer. He briefly entertained the thought of giving it away—surely there was a charity hall somewhere—but decided against it. That would be like giving himself away for free, and Ritsuka would rather be labeled a whore than a slut.

With that oh-so-pleasant thought in mind, Ritsuka marched into the lobby and secured a room. When he had his card key and had made it inside, he took one look around the place and felt instantly that the money had been well-spent.

He took a tour of the balcony, the tiny kitchenette, the lavish bathroom (complete with individually wrapped scented soaps and shampoos) and felt for the first time since running away that he was comfortable.

...physically, anyway. He didn't want to think about the guilt that rested like a bulldozer on his psyche. Or the fear of what it meant for his soul.

A hot bath was what he wanted more than anything, had been what he had wanted since leaving home. This feeling of disgust and emptiness and sin made it sound that much more appealing.

There was a white terrycloth robe laid out on the queen sized bed, the hotel's initial's embroidered in satin on the breast. Having no pajamas, he brought that with him into the bathroom and drew himself a hot bath, frothing over with the cocoa bean bubblebath he had found on the sink counter. He sunk to his nose in the steaming depths with a sigh of relish and let his eyes slip closed. He hadn't felt this warm in so long. He hadn't felt this relaxed either; he was still boneless and spent, and whenever he moved his legs, it stung intimately where Soubi had been.

His eyes opened slowly to stare at the soft yellow light spilling over the room.

_Soubi…_

Ritsuka saw a flash of pretty violet eyes, could almost taste a hint of mentholated smoke on his lips. Soubi's body had felt good against his, and he, Ritsuka, had felt wanted.

Closing his eyes again, he tried to tell himself that Soubi didn't matter, that he was a mistake, that Ritsuka had only felt drawn to him because that's what the man did; he spun a fancy web of seduction and reeled in his pray, like a talented spider. He was horrible. He was disgraceful. He was despicable. He was…

he was…

He was fun. And charming. And made good company. And felt so warm. And his kisses…

Ritsuka pressed his fingers to his lips, hating himself for wanting to feel it again. What was wrong with him? How could he still feel such a pull toward Soubi when he had blatantly been used by him?

Eventually it became clear that Ritsuka needed to get out of the tub. He was turning into a flushed (and melancholic) prune. After he'd rinsed off and dried himself, he realized that all he had left to wear were his dirty clothes. The thought did nothing to improve his mood about today's events. If anything, it made him long for Soubi to take care of him once more.

Stamping that thought out of his mind, he yanked on the bathrobe once more.

Just then, Ritsuka's stomach gave a thundering rumble.

Oh...right. He hadn't eaten in a while.

There was enough left of his "earnings" to order room service, so he did. A huge cheeseburger, piled high with toppings, and extra french fries on the side. And a thick chocolate milkshake. His mother had been very strict about eating healthily...even given his homelessness and complete uncertainty about his future, Ritsuka took small pleasures in eating junk food now.

Stomach full and feeling sated, all Ritsuka's body craved now was sleep.

The hotel's bed was nothing short of marvelous. Feather pillows...down comforter...crisp, cool sheets and the fresh scent of industrial-strength laundry detergent...Ritsuka shifted around, humming deliciously.

He was dead to the world in two minutes flat.

—-

The next day...conditions in his world went right back to what they had been before: miserable. He was left with precious little money after paying for his hotel room. So little, in fact, that Ritsuka could afford nothing to eat but a package of on-sale snack cakes and out-of-date potato chips. The convenience store that he'd bought them from thankfully offered water from the fountain drinks machine free. Ritsuka drained and then refilled his paper cup four times before he left.

If he went back to Soubi...he could be eating a hot meal at Chai's...building up his money supply...having enough to save, even...

Ritsuka could feel the raincloud of misery floating over his head as though it were something palpable. How could this have happened to him? WHY could this have happened to him? Wasn't he a good child? A good teenager? He'd never back-talked...never stayed out drinking with friends...he'd done well in school...so why had he been born to a mother who hit him? Why had he lost (and SOLD) his virginity to a common pimp?

...not common, really. Soubi wasn't common. He'd made Ritsuka feel important...had helped him out...

Even now...Soubi was willing to take him off the streets and give him a home...a job...

Ritsuka's little rain cloud followed him around all day, even staying with him when he got back to his overpass for the night. The cold, hard, concrete felt even worse tonight, since Ritsuka could now compare it to the plush bed in the hotel. No matter how he twisted and turned, rocks and gravel bore into his sides.

...rough, jagged...

...so cold...

...drifiting...

...swimming...

..._Swimming?_

Ritsuka's eyes shot open. All around him were puddles - so big that he had become suspended in one. His overpass was flooded and he had been floating in his sleep. He could feel his bangs sticking to his face, all of his clothes nothing more than sopping rags around him.

That little rain cloud was more than a figment of his imagination, after all.

Rivers of water were pouring in through the cracks of the overpass where the walls and top came together. The sound of hard rain was _zaa-ing _above and around him, punctuated by sporadic bouts of thunder and an instance of illumination from accompanying lightning.

He couldn't stay here. Not only was he feeling spastic from being awaken so suddenly and alarmingly, he could also drown if his hidey-hole filled enough, or freeze to death if he didn't get dry.

Shaking from the cold, he pulled himself out with frozen fingers and set off at a run to the nearest building, Chai's, and took shelter beneath the uniform blue awning. The diner was closed, and, from the looks of things, so was every other building doting that street. It must be terribly late—he doubted the homeless shelter even had a vacancy and quite frankly he was almost certain he'd have a greater chance of falling ill if he holed up there in his current condition than if he simply stood right there on the sidewalk and air-dried.

He knew exactly where he _could _go, of course; somewhere cozy and warm, with gentle classical floating through the air like a dream and carpet two inches thick.

Soubi wouldn't turn him away. Not like this; not in this weather at this time of night when Ritsuka probably looked exactly like a drowned cat. It didn't mean he had to work for Soubi if Ritsuka went to him. He didn't want to see the smug look on Soubi's face, but…

He had no where else to go.

The nearest bus stop was two streets down, and the rain didn't look as if it was going to let up. In fact, it seemed to be growing steadily worse as Ritsuka looked on, and so he tore down the sidewalk, noticing only vaguely that nearer into town were much more pedestrians and that, yes, the company of strangers made him that much more eager to see Soubi.

He reached the bus stop feeling winded, his lungs burning with every rapid inhale of frigid air. He leaned heavily against the signpost, panting and clutching a stitch in his side. Once he had caught his breath, he was surprised and relieved when he straightened up and saw the bus coming up the street.

Perhaps his luck hadn't run out completely.

—-

The ride to Soubi's apartment complex was extremely quiet. Almost erie. Ritsuka was the only one riding - no surprise at that hour, especially given the awful weather. Ritsuka's seat was soon soaking and slippery with the water transferred by his wet clothes. With every twist and turn that the bus driver made, Ritsuka would slide around a little on his plastic bench. He tried not to let it make him nauseous. He was going to need all his strength to withstand the smirk that Soubi was sure to give him when he showed up there for the night.

A horrifying thought occurred to Ritsuka right then. How was he going to get IN? Soubi's complex was gated on all sides. The last time he had gone there alone, Soubi had had to buzz him up. But how was that going to work now? Surely Soubi would be sleeping at this time of night. And even if he weren't, Ritsuka didn't want to ask him to come up over the intercom. He needed Soubi to SEE him and his soaked clothes and dripping hair. He need to ensure maximum chances of Soubi taking pity on him.

Ritsuka's insides churned along with the rattling of the bus wheels. What was he going to do? There was no back-up plan. This was it. Soubi had to let him stay. Ritsuka couldn't freeze outside tonight and expect to make it to morning.

Probably Soubi would let him come up if Ritsuka said he'd work for him...

but no. No. Ritsuka wasn't..._wasn't_ going to consider that right now.

The bus stopped one street away from Soubi's complex and Ritsuka stepped off of it without any plan of action besides getting to Soubi's door. He truged along through the puddles on the sidewalk, making no effort to avoid them. He was soaked already, after all. What damage more could they do?

Suddenly Ritsuka saw headlights ahead of him, pulling up to the front gate of the complex. After a few moments, the gate creaked open and the car rolled in. The gate had opened slowly...so it must CLOSE slowly...

Ritsuka saw his chance. He rushed ahead, determined to slip past the bars in time. And his luck with the bus must have carried over because he made it! And with time to spare. He smiled to himself in the darkness. That made twice now that things were going his way. He must be on the right path...it must be a sign that Soubi really was the one to go to tonight.

He crept along the stairwell, not wanting to rouse any suspicious neighbors or yappy dogs. The last thing he needed was the police called and then having to wait in suspense until Soubi decided whether or not to claim him. It WAS possible Soubi was upset with him for running out last time. But…no, Soubi didn't seem the type to get angry very easily. If anything he was simply amused and biding his time, SURE Ritsuka would be back.

He realized he had been staring at Soubi's door for a good few minutes now. It wouldn't do any good to delay this. He was still shivering, his eyes were drooping, and just wanted to sleep in a pile of warm blankets.

He rapped the door twice, but it seemed to be too soft. Biting his lip, he tried again, harder.

It wasn't long after that before Ritsuka heard footsteps approaching, and then the door swung open to reveal...

not Soubi.

Instead, there was a youngish, highly-pierced man standing in the doorway. His hair was a vivid shade of green, of all colors. Rather like grass. And the piercings...Ritsuka had never seen so many on one person before. Rings were littered up and down the man's ear lobs and cartilage, crowded closely together. He was taller than Ritsuka, but not as tall as Soubi.

...what was this guy doing here in Soubi's apartment? Was Soubi entertaining someone ELSE right now?

The man just stood there and blinked at Ritsuka for a few moments. "Ummm...hi." he eventually said, awkwardly. Then he turned and shouted into the apartment, "SOUBI! You have a drowned cat on your doorstep!"

Ritsuka's eyes narrowed at that. This guy… he was awfully blunt, wasn't he? Giving him an appraising once-over, Ritsuka noticed he was wearing a dark rose-colored robe, and it didn't appear as if he were sporting anything beneath it. Ritsuka's stomach twisted unpleasantly, and he recognized it instantly as an ice-cold shot of jealousy.

"So… who are you?" the guy asked, still not inviting him in.

"I should be asking YOU the same thing," he snapped. He was suddenly feeling extremely possessive, as if Soubi had betrayed him by allowing this person to be here. It was irrational, but hadn't he just surrendered his innocence to Soubi two nights ago? He felt he deserved a little more respect than this.

Soubi appeared over the man's shoulder, also wearing nothing except a robe, this one a deep midnight blue. Even at this hour, the man was smoking.

"Ritsuka..." he said, in mild surprise. The amused smile was already in place. "What a pleasure to see you. Come in."

Soubi touched his hand to the stranger's elbow, gently easing him out of the way, making way for Ritsuka to pass.

When Ritsuka had stepped across the threshold, Soubi looked him over up and down, inspecting him. Then he said, peaceably, "...towel?"

He produced a white towel from God knew where and Ritsuka snatched it out of his hand with a clipped, "Yeah. Thanks."

"Things between you and the overpass didn't work out so well, I take it?" Soubi asked, watching as Ritsuka toweled off his hair and then wrapped it cape like over his shoulders, still shivering.

First the posters and now this. Ritsuka wasn't sure how Soubi had obtained all this information, and really, he didn't want to know.

"I'd rather not go through all this," He said. Soubi's apartment was deliciously warm, which made him quake in his shoes as his dangerously low body temperature fought to raise back up. "I have nowhere else to go. Will you let me stay for the night?"

The green-haired stranger blinked a few times in rapid succession at this, sputtering.

"Of course," Soubi replied, utterly ignoring him. "It's the least I can do."

Ritsuka inwardly thought that the least Soubi could have done was treat him like a person instead of a piece of meat, but he figured now wasn't the time to make that comment.

"Thanks," he said, rather dryly, and made his way further in, toward the lounge room he had drawn Youji and Natsuo in. He could hear the other boy complaining to Soubi in hushed but outraged tones; the apartment was so quiet Ritsuka could make out every word.

"Send him to stay with the others!"

"I can't turn away a guest," said Soubi, sounding completely unaffected.

"But this is my night! He seems like a sweet kid and everything, but—"

"Don't be so inhospitable," Soubi said. "He's a good kid. You will hardly notice he's here."

Ritsuka couldn't help the loud snort that came out of him at that. He didn't plan on being a polite, quiet little pet. Not when Soubi had treated him like dirt and then invited this green-haired stranger to sleep with him not two days after. They WOULD notice that Ritsuka was there.

"He doesn't SOUND like it," came the stranger's dry voice.

"He'll be fine," came Soubi's voice directly after. Ritsuka could HEAR the smirk in his words.

Soubi and Green Hair came into the lounge then, Soubi outwardly serene, as if soaking wet teenagers turned up on his doorstep every day.

"Ritsuka, can I get you anything? Water? Something to eat?" he asked solicitously.

"No. I'm not hungry." Ritsuka replied, tone as curt and dismissive as he could manage.

His stomach chose that moment to give a ferocious growl.

Soubi chuckled.

"Who is this guy anyway?" said Ritsuka, turning blazing eyes at Soubi. His irritation and jealousy seemed to be mounting higher every moment; he felt like his lungs were tightening, as if the three of them made too many people in the room and there wasn't enough oxygen to sustain them. "And does he have any idea who I am? That I've been here before?"

Most satisfactorily, Soubi seemed thrown off by the angry rising higher in his voice, but it didn't last long enough for Ritsuka's taste. He quickly recovered and laid a hand on the other man's shoulder.

"Do forgive my rudeness," he said. "Neither of you have been properly introduced. Ritsuka, this is Kio. Kio, Ritsuka is the artist who so graciously agreed to sketch Youji and Natsuo."

"And you!" Ritsuka snapped, his glare challenging Soubi to deny it. So this… _this _was Kio. Ritsuka hadn't expected him to look so… radical. Is this what Soubi liked? He had to dye his hair with Kool-aid and punch holes all over his body to get special treatment from Soubi?

"And I?" prompted Soubi, politely.

Kio's head was turning back and forth between them as though he were watching a tennis match.

"You! You...you brought him here! After we..."

Suddenly Ritsuka realized that he didn't want to talk about it, especially not in front of Kio.

"Nevermind," he concluded. "Forget it. It's not like I care."

Then he planted himself firmly on the lounge and stared defiantly at Soubi. There was nothing that Soubi could say to defend himself. And Ritsuka didn't care anyway. He didn't.

Soubi studied him for a beat or two, then made a thoughtful "hmmm" sound.

"Kio..." he murmured. "Ritsuka is clearly a bit out of sorts tonight. I don't think he's quite up for company at the moment. I'm sorry...you and I can reschedule tomorrow."

Ritsuka didn't think Soubi sounded sorry at all.

"What?" Said Kio, sounding completely distressed now. "Reschedule? I can't reschedule! This isn't fair! I've been waiting for a long time! You can't shoo me out now!"

"Four days, Kio, you haven't been waiting that long." Soubi took hold of Kio's elbow and lead him back toward the front of the apartment. When he spoke again, it was significantly softer, but Ritsuka still caught the words. "You stay with me twice as often as anyone else. You haven't much to complain about."

Ritsuka's fingers curled dangerously into the towel. Youji and Natsuo had told him they thought Soubi cared for Kio more than he let on; Ritsuka felt he let on that he liked Kio far, far too much.

The thought was a hugely unpleasant one. It was made worse by the sounds of rustling clothing now emanating from the foyer. Surely Soubi didn't have the audacity to try something with this Kio person NOW, of all times.

Ritsuka rocketed out of his seat on the lounge. He had to know.

Peeking out from behind the doorway, he saw that Kio had exchanged his robe for a yellow t-shirt and was pulling on a pair of jeans. So the guy had left his clothes in the foyer. Which meant that he'd stripped pretty much instantly after he arrived in Soubi's apartment.

What a slut.

"Make sure the boys aren't still up carousing," Soubi was saying softly to him. "Tomorrow is a busy day for us. We're booked solid."

"Yeah, yeah..." Kio muttered, fastening his jeans and pulling on a jacket.

"Hey...I'll make it up to you." replied Soubi, in a voice even lower still. Ritsuka saw him take Kio's hand and draw him close. Then Soubi paused, as if waiting for something. And a second later, Ritsuka saw that what he was waiting for was for Kio to tilt his head up. And when Kio did, Soubi sealed their mouths together. Soubi kissed Kio softly, almost languidly. Like they had kissed this way a thousand times before and he knew every step of the dance.

Bile rose up in Ritsuka's throat. He wanted to turn away but his feet felt like leaden blocks.

He saw Kio's hand slide into Soubi's long hair, right at the base of Soubi's neck. Soubi's arms were slung low around Kio's waist. His hands were resting just above the curve of Kio's rear.

If Ritsuka didn't know either of them, and was seeing them for the first time, he would have thought that they were high school sweethearts. He admitted to himself, bitterly, that they made a nice picture.

"Such promises," Kio said, when they had finally broken apart. But he sounded much calmer. "And how often do you keep any of them? I'd be stupid to hold my breath."

Soubi pulled away from him completely, and Ritsuka didn't wait for his answer. He slunk back into the furthest recesses of the lounge and curled into the corner of a leather sofa, turning to stair blankly out the double glass doors. It was too dark to see anything but his own reflection; he looked pathetic and small amid his wet clothes and the single towel—now damp—he still clutched between tight fists.

"Why do you have him here so much?" He asked in response, still looking out the window.

"He's not here any longer than he should be." Soubi said, conclusively. "Now then...how can I help you?"

Ritsuka felt the sting of tears prick at his eyeballs. He felt even more frustrated by that answer, and was amazed how easily Soubi could get under his skin.

So why do I like him? He thought, looking down at his shaking hands.

"Ritsuka." Soubi laid a hand on his shoulder.

Like he did to Kio.

Ritsuka shook it off. "I just needed a place to stay. I don't need or want anything else from you. I'll be gone as soon as the rain stops. Now leave me alone. I don't want you to talk to me."

Soubi made another one of those "hmm" sounds.

"Very well." he said. "I'll be in my bedroom, then."

And he left without another word.

The tears glassed over Ritsuka's eyes the moment he heard the click of the bedroom door being closed, somewhere off to the left. He squeezed his eyes closed, and the hot drip of tears rolling down his cheeks sent his rage over the edge.

"Damnit!" He beat the top of the sofa with his towel until it felt like all his energy had drained him, then he sunk face first against the armrest and wept.

He didn't know what he was going to do, and he'd never felt so alone in his life. There was no one here to help him, no one to ask for advice, no one to give him another option. It was only himself and Soubi, the guy he hated and wanted all at once.

Suddenly the image of the beautiful stranger entered Ritsuka's mind. He was there when Ritsuka had needed help, perfectly kind and generous – even though he didn't know Ritsuka from Adam. Ritsuka couldn't imagine himself ever being treated this way if it was that man he'd met at Chai's, instead of Soubi.

Ritsuka could really use the beautiful stranger right now.

He sat up again, furiously swiping at his cheeks and brushing the tears aside. This was all such a mess. If it were anyone but him, Ritsuka would pity them and search his heart for a way to help them. He wished someone were doing that for him at the moment. Soubi certainly wasn't.

But Soubi was there, at least. Even if he WAS a jerk.

Making up his mind on the spot, Ritsuka set off to find the jerk's bedroom.

There were four doors down the hallway: the first on the right a bathroom; the first on the left looked like a study; the third on the left was partially closed, but he couldn't see in; and on the left, the door was closed completely. That one, he figured, had to be Soubi's. He turned the knob slowly, entered, and closed it just as softly behind him.

The moonlight was bleeding through cerulean curtains, and he could just make out a large, four-poster bed in the middle of the room. The lump in the middle had to be the bastard himself, wrapped in a luxurious looking silken blanket. Ritsuka stood motionless for a beat, his heart kicking up nervously. At least the tears had ebbed, and that's all he really cared about. He was so tired… so cold… so… so _wet_.

He looked down at himself, draped in clothes that were at least no longer dripping, but not suitable to sleep in. He could ask for a T-shirt, but… he didn't want to speak. He didn't want to hear Soubi speak. Seeing no alternative, he stripped himself down to his underwear. They were damp with rainwater, but not horribly so—his pants had soaked in most of it. He draped them over a chair beside the bed and then climbed in, slipping beneath Soubi's blanket and snuggling right up to his chest.

Ritsuka knew that Soubi wasn't asleep yet. In fact, it was so quiet that he could hear the way his breathing was uneven. Ritsuka could FEEL Soubi's eyes on him through the darkness. Soubi didn't speak a word, though. He wasn't protesting.

Ritsuka reached up and pulled one of Soubi's arms around him. Soubi's hands were long-fingered and delicate. Almost feminine. Ritsuka nestled himself cozily into Soubi's chest.

"You know, I don't usually allow this," Soubi finally said. He didn't sound sleepy.

Ritsuka made no effort to move away. "Yeah, I know. Because you're a jerk."

Soubi simply chuckled at that, leaving Ritsuka in his place.

The heat of his body soon calmed Ritsuka's tremors, and the softness of the bed combined with the rhythmic, steady breath of Soubi and his heart beating beneath his fingers, Ritsuka fell easily into a deep, dreamless sleep.

—

Ritsuka was alone when he awoke the following morning, his limbs tangled around the sheets and his face half buried in a pillow that felt like it was stuffed with real feathers. Sunlight filtered in through the slits in the blinds; apparently Soubi hadn't bothered to keep them closed just because he was asleep.

No matter. It hadn't bothered him anyway. Judging from the angle, it was still early morning, but he felt more rested than he had in a while; even his night in the hotel hadn't been as restful. Perhaps it was the comfort he had derived from sleeping in the circle of Soubi's arms. The man was surprisingly tender in his hold.

Ritsuka blinked and turned onto his back, stretching and then freezing mid-yawn. There was a mirror on the ceiling. There was a mirror on the ceiling and it was directly over the bed.

_Pervert_, Ritsuka thought, but attaching that label to Soubi was becoming such a familiar action that the accusation felt soft and the presence of the mirror barely shocking. He was beginning to understand the almost bipolar way Youji and Natsuo had sounded when speaking about him—fond and disgusted all rolled into one extremely confusing emotion that Ritsuka just wasn't up to wading through at the moment. He was rested and warm and the only nagging sensations messing up his well-rounded feeling of contentment were the need to visit the bathroom and a slight burning in his stomach which threatened every passing moment to evolve into a growl.

As he made his way to the attached bathroom, he wondered if Soubi even had any food in his cupboards or if he simply ate out all the time. He seemed to prefer a cigarette and black coffee at Chai's most mornings, at least.

Soubi's bathroom was even more impressive than his bedroom. There was a built in vanity, double sinks, and a deep tub with massage jets in the corner. His towels were tan with opalescent white threads embroidered with his initials. Everything was impeccably clean, like the rest of his apartment, nothing but a toothbrush holder and a bar of soap residing on the sink counter. The vanity held a wooden boar brush and a bottle of cologne, its diamond body ridged and gleaming beneath the overhead lighting.

Ritsuka's only complaints were the two magazines stationed on top of the toilet tank; the cover of the first showed two baby-faced boys in a rather compromising position inside of a bathtub. Ritsuka could only see the ledge of the other, but was forced to presume it contained similar images as the first and was none too eager to find out.

Well, he thought as he finished up washing his hands with the masculine-smelling soap bar, he had been warned Soubi liked them cute and young.

Now...it was time to get some food into his stomach. Ritsuka ventured out into the hallway, wondering where Soubi's kitchen was. He poked his head around a few corners, finding only spare bedrooms and closets...surely the kitchen would be nearer to the living room, anyway?

Then he smelled the tell-tale acrid smoke of Soubi's cigarettes, wafting in from the end of the hallway. It meant that Soubi was awake and somewhere in the living room, or in rooms beyond. Ritsuka followed his nose, shuffling along the plush carpet. He would make Soubi feed him something - the man owed him more for his offensive treatment of Ritsuka than the holding he'd given the night before.

As reliably as the GPS that Ritsuka's mother used to use for long car rides, the scent led Ritsuka straight into a clean, well-lit kitchen. It had a small island in the center, gleaming stainless-steel appliances, and white cabinets. Ritsuka saw Soubi standing next to the sink, leaning his hip against the counter. There was (surprise, surprise) a cigarette in one of his hands. In the other, a sleek cellular phone was pressed against his ear. Soubi was speaking into it quietly.

Feeling annoyed at this, Ritsuka walked straight up to the island and coughed significantly. He wasn't here for Soubi to ignore.

Soubi covered the mouthpiece with the hand holding his cigarette, turning toward Ritsuka. He huffed out one of his amused chuckles, then reached into a cabinet overhead, rummaging about inside it without so much as a "good morning."

Ritsuka narrowed his eyes, plopping himself into one of the barstools at the island. Did he look funny or something?

But two seconds later, Soubi had placed a bowl in front of him, along with a carton of milk, a spoon, and a box of Cheerios.

"Eat," Soubi said, like he had known all along that Ritsuka would be hungry. Like Ritsuka was easy to predict. Then he lowered his hand from the phone's mouthpiece and turned away, continuing his conversation.

Ritsuka stared at the back of his silver-blond head, not quite glaring, but still not tame enough to be considered neutral. Maybe it was lack of food making him so irritable. He grabbed the cheerios and filled the bowl almost to the brim, letting the tiny O's sprinkle as loudly as possible into the ceramic. Soubi gave no indication that the noise impaired his conversation, which was completely unsatisfying, but Ritsuka's stomach had awakened at the smell and began fussing loudly. He added the milk and began shoveling spoonfuls into his mouth.

"Is that so?" Soubi was asking. "I see. And how is he feeling right now?"

Ritsuka's chewing slowed. He couldn't hear Soubi's soft voice well over his own crunching.

"And how is...yeah, is his fever down? Okay. He needs a doctor's appointment. I'll tell Mr. Yagamuchi that he won't be able to work tomorrow. ...and don't let Youji kiss him. We don't need it to spread. But don't tell him that or he'll do it just to defy me."

Hiding a laugh in his bowl, Ritsuka felt a sudden surge of tenderness toward Soubi. Was he actually worried about his boys? Or was he only concerned about one sick boy infecting the others and not bringing in any cash? Despite his efforts to stop hoping for the best where Soubi was concerned, he couldn't help thinking how rather sweet it would be if Soubi really did care about the welfare of his hookers.

"Yes..." Soubi was going on. "we've been up by at least ten percent since then..." here he paused and chuckled, "Well, we can thank him for abolishing that statute, can't we?"

Ritsuka's tender feelings cooled considerably at that. Soubi's words made it impossible for Ritsuka to forget that his business was ILLEGAL. But...at least Soubi seemed responsible about it...he wasn't in jail, after all. And neither were Youji or Natsuo. Maybe it wouldn't be the WORST thing to do...the benefits were hard to ignore, too.

Like having enough food, and eating it on a regular basis, Ritsuka thought, shoveling more cereal into his mouth.

"No...wait until I get back. Yes. Yes...no, definitely not," Soubi said. "Alright...I'll see you then. Goodbye."

He snapped his phone shut with a satisfying click, setting it aside on the counter. Then he took a long drag from his cigarette, seeming to relish it when he blew out the smoke through his nose rather than his mouth. Ritsuka thought it made Soubi look like a blond dragon.

"Something wrong?" the dragon asked, and Ritsuka realized he was staring. "Didn't you sleep well?"

"Fine," said Ritsuka. "Natsuo's sick?"

"No. Another boy. He's called Kano."

He was tempted to ask exactly how many their were, but Ritsuka found himself too confused by another matter. He paused his chewing, searching Soubi's eyes for any signs that he was joking. When he saw none, Ritsuka swallowed his mouthful. "But why would Youji kiss someone else when he's with—"

"Youji is probably the most promiscuous of the bunch. Kissing, touching, sex… he takes none of it seriously and greatly enjoys all of it."

"And Natsuo doesn't care?"

"Natsuo likes to WATCH." Soubi closed his eyes and inhaled more smoke, then snuffed out the cigarette in an ashtray by his cell phone. "In fact, I think Youji mainly pursues pleasures of the flesh in his spare time for the sake of Natsuo's entertainment."

It was completely sick, Ritsuka mused, but he supposed being hookers they would HAVE to take it lightly. Like a game, maybe, or an idle pastime. If two people as obviously lost in each other as Youji and Natusuo seemed to be could so easily take this on, then maybe it really wasn't as repulsive as it felt to Ritsuka now. Apparently it beat sleeping at the homeless shelter.

Letting his spoon rest against the side of the bowl, he put his hands in his lap, squeezing them between his knees to keep from fidgeting. "When they need a doctor," he said, looking down. "who pays for it?"

"I do," said Soubi at once. "As their 'headmaster,' so to speak, it is my responsibility to keep them healthy and provide them with whatever essentials they may need."

Ritsuka nodded, squeezing his knees against his hands again. "What about if they get...caught? Like...the police?"

Soubi gave him a lopsided smile. "None of my boys has ever been in that position. And I don't expect that they ever will be."

"Why?"

"Well...I have certain understandings with the law enforcement in this area. And the politicians, for that matter. They scratch my back, I scratch theirs. ...so to speak."

Ritsuka wasn't surprised by this answer. It was clear that Soubi wasn't at all worried about going to prison, living in the lap of luxury as he was. And yet...the blatant corruption that made his lifestyle possible...it put a bad taste in Ritsuka's mouth.

"This lifestyle isn't for everyone, of course," said Soubi. He was staring at Ritsuka's mouth, which had worked its way into a troubled frown. "But just as none of my boys have ever been in hot water with the law, none of them have regretted working for me. They are all very well cared for and very happy."

Ritsuka felt his curiosity spiking, and wished it wouldn't. He was suddenly aware that he hadn't bothered to even pull on a shirt before marching out here. But Soubi didn't seem to be eye-raping him, so he cleared his throat and nodded. "What if one of them didn't want to do it anymore?"

"I would let him go, and wish him the best," Soubi said.

"Just like that?" pressed Ritsuka. "You wouldn't try to keep him? Argue with him?"

"No..." Soubi murmured. "The technical term for my profession may be 'pimp' but that doesn't mean I'm also a kidnapper or jailer. My employees choose to work for me. I've never forced anyone into anything. I don't intend to ever start. My boys come to me when they want to, and they can leave when they want to."

Soubi moved to take the seat on the barstool next to Ritsuka, sitting down on it with a steady elegance.

"I have a prosperous business based on providing entertainment, pleasure, and companionship to those who otherwise might not have it. It may not be the peace corps but it's not the slave trade either."

He looked sincere; Soubi had a gleam in his strange violet eyes but it wasn't the hungry sort he had on the day he and Ritsuka had… well… it wasn't like that.

Ritsuka picked up his spoon and resumed eating his much softer cereal. "What if someone can't do it? Like… what if they're not sure what to do once they're with a client?"

Soubi chuckled. "That's not much of a problem. Clients have no trouble saying exactly what they want. Even so, each new boy is always assigned a "big brother," so to speak. It is the big brothers responsibility to show around the newcomer and get him familiar with the ins and outs of the business."

For several bites, Ritsuka contemplated this while Soubi looked on. Finally Ritsuka said, "So, hypothetically… if I wanted to work for you, who would be my big brother?"

Soubi made a thoughtful "hmmm" sound, pausing for a moment, but Ritsuka got the feeling that he already knew the answer to this question. Ritsuka got the feeling that Soubi had picked out his "big brother" long before today.

"I know that you have already met Youji and Natsuo but I don't think I would assign either of them to you. Youji is cheeky and disobedient at times, and Natsuo can be careless about proper procedure. But Kio...Kio is experienced, affable...quite obedient to my wishes...and he's helpful by nature. I think Kio would be your big brother."

A ripple of jealous tore through Ritsuka's stomach, and it made his nose wrinkle in distaste. Kio, obedient to Soubi's wishes? Yeah, Ritsuka was sure he was.

"Wont Kio have a hard time being fair to me once he finds out that we slept together?" He spooned more Cheerios into his mouth and gave Soubi a sideways glance.

Soubi snorted. "That's hardly likely. I often...partake of my employees' skills. Kio knows that. He still maintains friendly relationships with the other boys."

Ritsuka didn't understand how so many people in this organization could be okay with sexual infidelity in their relationships. Well...on second thought, Ritsuka didn't think the organization could function without such attitudes.

"So wait… you just sleep with any one of them you want? Do you MAKE them?"

"I'm not a rapist, Ritsuka." Soubi said mildly, as though he were offended by the question. "I call some of them into my office from time to time. They don't refuse me. I'm not exactly sexually repulsive, as you yourself can vouch for."

Soubi was smirking by the end of his response. Ritsuka blushed down at his breakfast, then lifted the bowl to his lips and drank the milk, pretending Soubi wasn't still looking at him.

"Of course..." he added, "office visits are part of the terms of employment, so a refusal would necessitate at the very least a reduction in work, and at the most, termination."

Ritsuka sputtered and choked on the milk, and Soubi lightly pat his back, his eyes still boring into him.

"Would you like a bath?" he asked, seemingly out of place in the conversation. Or was it? Ritsuka eyes sliced accusatorily up at him, his hand still covering his mouth."I've already put your clothes in the wash and they will have completed their drying cycle in just a few minutes, so you have a fresh change when you get out. Take your time, you can mull things over."

—

If Ritsuka still had any reservations, the bath had all but rinsed them away. He didn't need the whole hour he spent in the frothy bubbles and perfectly warmed water to make up his mind. The way he saw it, he wasn't a virgin anymore anyways. That part was over with, it had been Ritsuka's choice, and it had been with someone he liked (and simultaneously hated, but that was a different issue).

He could go back to his overpass and hope it wasn't flooded, but where would he get in life that way? He would be homeless forever, and he wouldn't go back to his mother. He wouldn't—there was no future there either.

But with Soubi, there was a future. Ritsuka didn't have to do this forever. He could save his earning, go to college, make an honest living. It wasn't his preferred stepping stone, but it was there to take, and Ritsuka felt at this point it would be stupid to turn up his nose at it.

Besides… Soubi had said that if anyone wanted out, they could leave. Ritsuka would give it a go. If it repulsed him, if it scared him, if he couldn't live with himself… he would stop. And that was all there was to it.

Once he had dressed and combed his hair, he found Soubi in the lounge, painting the clouds outside the window, piano music humming quietly around him.

Soubi looked up as he came in, his expression politely expectant. Ritsuka knew that Soubi knew what was coming. There was no point in beating around the bush about it. And besides, if he was going to do this job, he would have to start getting used to being direct.

Without preamble, Ritsuka said, "I'll do it."

Soubi smiled, looking oddly benevolent, and nodded. He set down his paintbrush and brushed his hands against each other briskly.

"Wonderful. Now then. I think it's best that you stay here with me for a few weeks. We need to make sure that you haven't contracted any illnesses from the living out of doors and it would be nice if we could get a little more flesh on your bones."

Ritsuka blinked, then spread his arms and looked down at himself. He wanted to argue, really, defend himself against what he felt was a blatant insult. But as he looked down at himself he couldn't help but agree. He was scrawny and boney and even his ribs were starting to show beneath his skin. He wasn't grossly underweight YET, but he definitely wasn't looking good.

He nodded. "Okay. I'll stay with you. But I… don't really like doctors."

Soubi chuckled. "Does anyone? You won't be needing one unless you're sick...I would insist on healing you if that were the case. Otherwise, just rest and food here and you should be perfectly fine and ready for work. Well...after Kio has his way with you, that is."

Ritsuka gave him a horrified look.

"Not like that," Soubi added. "He'll want to cut your hair, do your nails...generally be a woman about the whole thing."

It was hesitant, but Ritsuka felt the corners of his mouth curve up, and he snorted a soft laugh, looking downward and shaking his head.

"That's it," said Soubi. He opened his arms and beckoned Ritsuka to him, looking like some sort of sinister messiah in his purple robes. "we can be good friends, you and I."

Unable to get the smile off his face, Ritsuka made his way over and clung to the lean curves of Soubi's body.

—

REVIEWS, REVIEWS, REVIEWS! We want them!

-_Magic Mind & BC3_


	5. Chapter 5

Magic: THANK GOD we have gotten to this point! Thank yous to everyone who has been reading, favoriting, alerting, and especially REVIEWING this fic! We really appreciate it!

BC3: ...Ditto. XD

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 5<strong>

The next few weeks passed in a steady rhythm that Ritsuka enjoyed. It was nice to no longer worry about food or shelter or heat. He ate whatever he pleased from Soubi's kitchen, whenever he wanted. Sometimes the two of them had dinner out together. During the day, Soubi would usually be away from the apartment working and so Ritsuka had the place to himself. He would watch television on Soubi's flatscreen...draw and paint in his sketchbook...sometimes he would take long bubble baths for the simple joy of knowing he could. It was remarkable how much the little things in life now mattered to Ritsuka. He was never exactly a spoiled child, but he also never stopped to appreciate what a luxury it was to have a shower or pull a snack out of the refrigerator. It wasn't until he had nothing that he began to learn what a privilege those things were.

Ritsuka gained a few pounds too. His ribs no longer protruded quite so far and his arms and legs felt stronger with the added muscle weight. He was beginning to feel more like his older self, back inside the body that he had had before he'd run away.

Soubi seemed to appreciate his healthier figure as well; Ritsuka began sleeping with him on the fourth night, no longer just in the literal sense. Soubi hadn't pushed for it, but when it became obvious that's what he wanted, Ritsuka didn't deny him. In fact, part of him was glad. He felt the added experience would help him feel less anxious once he started his "job". Ritsuka was happy to find sex rather enjoyable, though it was difficult for him to separate the physical from the emotional, and his heart felt raw after each encounter.

It was a learning process, though; after four weeks he no longer cuddled up to Soubi, not after sex and not for sleep. In fact, he took up residence on the chaise lounge to give himself some space and time to detach himself from wanting more of Soubi than Soubi was willing to give. Ritsuka cried a lot during this time. Soubi would build him up to release and always deliver, and the flood of yearning for something more intimate would crash through him. Over time he found the disappointment waning, becoming less of a sharp pain and more of a dull emptiness. Because the truth was he LIKED Soubi. He liked his hair, his eyes, his body. He liked his laugh, he liked his sophistication, and he even liked the minted scent of smoke that clung lightly to his clothes (although he still found the habit of smoking disgusting in itself). He could see himself with Soubi, he could imagine living there forever, and he believed he could be happy with it.

But reality forced itself on him one Tuesday morning, when Soubi beckoned Ritsuka onto his lap and ran two curious hands up Ritsuka's thighs and over his rib cage.

"You're deliciously filled out," he said, his long fingers pinching soft flesh between his fingers. "I believe it's time to introduce you to your new big brother."

Nothing about that sentence was remotely arousing to Ritsuka. In fact, it made him kind of pissed off, reminding him that he was still an object to Soubi. At best, he was an employee - one that was to be used strategically.

"I've already been introduced to Kio." Ritsuka reminded him, climbing off of Soubi's lap. He was proud of himself for doing it so easily. Maybe he would make a good hooker after all.

"Ah, yes," Soubi said, smiling, as though his mistake were very amusing. "So you have."

—-

They were speeding into the heart of the city shortly thereafter, riding in Soubi's car. It was a leather-interiored sporty thing. Clearly expensive but somehow very bland.

Soubi pulled into an alleyway, which was managed to look shadowy even in the broad daylight. He parked on the curb. When they had both gotten out, Soubi led Ritsuka to a heavy steel door near the back, graffitied and locked.

"Security is paramount in this business," Soubi said by way of explanation. He pulled a gleaming silver key out of his pocket and turned the lock with it.

Music swarmed out of the door as it was opened. It wasn't the soft classical that played in Soubi's apartment, but more of bubblegum rock that wasn't altogether unpleasant. It actually made Ritsuka feel a bit like dancing, although he was too nervous and wouldn't do so even if he weren't.

"Come, Ritsuka," said Soubi, as if he were a dog.

Ritsuka huffed and straightened his shirt, then shoved his way passed Soubi and into a rather grand foyer. Momentarily stumped, Ritsuka froze in the center, gaping at the elegance of the décor, all crème whites and gleaming silver. There was an oak coat rack by the door, standing just beside a marble-topped side table with a few pieces of mail and someone's ring of keys. Across from him was a full length mirror, probably for one last chance to primp before leaving on a job call, a chaise lounge vaguely similar to that in Soubi's apartment, a fully stocked bookshelf, and an impressive grandfather clock.

The sketchy alley and slummy area of the city certainly belied the beauty inside the walls.

Soubi was watching as Ritsuka stared around the place, open-mouthed.

"Welcome to your new home," he said, smiling.

Ritsuka nodded distantly. He was going to _live _here. Even with the knowledge of what sort of tasks he'd have to perform in order to stay...the place was all very _wow_.

Ritsuka saw Soubi pull his cell out of his pants pocket, hitting two keys before raising the phone to his ear.

"Kio. Meet me in the foyer. He's here." was all Soubi said before hanging up.

And then, not a minute later, the tall, green-haired, overly-pierced Kio was striding in. He had a huge smile on his face as he made his way over to Soubi, sliding a hand onto his shoulder and standing on tiptoe to kiss his cheek.

Soubi accepted the gesture without complaint. But he didn't return it, Ritsuka noticed.

"Kio," Soubi said, waving his hand toward Ritsuka. "This is your new little brother."

He gave Ritsuka an appraising once over, then moved forward and grabbed his wrists, opening up his arms. "He could use some salon time...but overall, plenty of potential. You make a much nicer call boy than you do a drowned cat."

Ritsuka wasn't sure if that was an insult or not, but decided not when Kio pulled him into a hug. He felt a little guilty for still carrying a stone of resentment toward his new "brother" when said brother apparently didn't even seem to mind that he was sleeping with… but wait, DID he mind? Maybe he did and it was _Soubi _who didn't care. In fact, the longer Ritsuka examined the situation, the stupider he felt.

He had been mad at Kio for weeks now...going over and over in his mind how Kio was stealing Soubi's attention away and how Kio didn't deserve it and how Kio's hair would look out of place even on a Martian. But now Ritsuka realized...with a sickening kind of jolt...that if anyone had the right to be jealous, it was Kio. Not Ritsuka. Kio had clearly been Soubi's...something...much longer than Ritsuka had been. Kio was the one who ought to be angry, having had his place usurped by some homeless kid with no money and no prospects.

But he wasn't. Kio seemed, if anything, glad to have someone to show around. Maybe he was hiding his hurt and resentment. But even if he was...wasn't that admirable too? That he would put on a good face and take care of Ritsuka anyway?

After all, it wasn't Kio's fault that Soubi was so insensitive. Worse than insensitive, really. Soubi _knew _that Kio had feelings for him and he still slept with Ritsuka. Repeatedly. And Ritsuka now knew that Soubi did that with all of his boys.

It was Soubi who was the root of the problem, Ritsuka thought with a sigh.

He suddenly returned Kio's hug, wrapping his arms around Kio's small waist. He and Kio were in this together. If Kio could be kind to him, he could be kind to Kio too.

It was nice knowing there were people here he could relate to - people who wouldn't pull off his clothes and then walk away.

"Kio will show you around and then prepare you for the street tonight," said Soubi, as Ritsuka and Kio broke apart. "Ritsuka," here Soubi kneeled and brushed his knuckles against Ritsuka's cheek. "It will be easier for you to take up a client tonight. The first is always the most awkward. But please keep in mind that I never expect anyone to take up with a client the first night. The main purpose of sending you to the street is so that you can watch Kio and learn the ropes. You may even go with Kio simply to observe."

Ritsuka saw through this act right away. Soubi wanted him to take a client tonight, that much was certain. All of Soubi's pretty words couldn't erase the concern for good business that Ritsuka knew Soubi held. He'd want Ritsuka to turn a profit as soon as possible.

The thought made the feeling of Soubi's knuckles against his cheek feel like four sandpaper chips.

"We'll see," Ritsuka said cryptically. He turned toward Kio, ready for a tour of the house.

Kio's eyes were narrowed at Soubi, lips set in a straight line. He looked as though he was putting effort into restraining himself.

After a moment, Kio made a huffing sound. He turned away from Soubi and took Ritsuka's hand.

"Come on, little bro," he said, sounding much more cheerful than he'd looked two seconds before. "Let's show you around the place."

Soubi left them then, excusing himself to the office and disappearing into a room with a crystal-plated door. Good, thought Ritsuka, staring after him moodily. He pulled his jacket tighter around his shoulders, hating that he was feeling a good amount of anxiety that he wouldn't be Soubi's live-in play thing anymore. It was so stupid! He didn't want to be a plaything!

"Ritsuka, you're okay right?" Kio asked, grasping his arm again. "Come this way. Maybe I should show you the rest of the place later. We really need to get to dolled up for tonight-we don't need you pruny and red when we go out."

Ritsuka allowed himself to be pulled deeper into the house, mulling that over. "Pruny and red? What are you planning on doing with me?"

"Everything," said Kio.

"Everything. Right."

"The bedrooms are upstairs," said Kio. "There's four to a room. I share with Youji and Natsuo, and you'll be sharing the bunk with me."

They climbed the staircase as he explained this, which was a great oak thing with rich coconut-colored carpet lining each step, bracketed by a delicately swirling banister. When they reached the top landing, Youji and Natsuo were exiting a room on the far left, laughing and kissing as they clung to each other and made their way clumsily toward them, slamming into walls.

Ritsuka envied them their casual intimacy. He envied their relationship overall, really. It was true that they were both selling their bodies to make ends meet but….they managed to make it work. They managed to be HAPPY.

Kio shook his head at them. Ritsuka couldn't tell if he did it fondly or if the gesture was one of disapproval. Maybe a bit of both.

"Soubi says you've met these two already," he said.

At that, Natsuo pulled his lips away from Youji's – but only far enough to facilitate speech.

"Hey…." He said, squeezing Youji's rear. "It's Ritsuka!"

Youji lifted his head to follow Natsuo's line of sight. When he found Ritsuka and Kio at the stair landing, he laughed and said, "So it is. ...Ritsuka! Ready to put that ass to work then?"

Ritsuka, feeling a little more used to their public displays of affection (and nonchalance about their line of work), laughed along. When he thought about it, Youji and Natsuo's attitudes relaxed him. They made him feel like what he was getting into was almost….normal.

"Don't mind them," Kio said, and lead Ritsuka down the hall by the hand.

"Ohhh," Natsuo remarked. "Looks like Kio has dibs."

"We'll get him later," said Youji, with a lecherous smile.

Ritsuka felt himself tense up at that. There was no WAY that he could handle Youji and Natsuo jumping him unawares every night…..what where they thinking?

Something of Ritsuka's apprehension must have shown on his face because Youji immediately winked at him playfully. And suddenly Ritsuka felt relaxed again. He smiled at them over his shoulder as Kio pulled him along.

"Our room is there," said Kio, pointing at a door two away and on the opposite side of the hall that Youji and Natsuo had come from. Clearly they had been enjoying their activities in someone else's room. "But first let's get you a shower."

He led Ritsuka to the very end of the hall, where a door opened into a communal bathroom. It was uniform white with pale blue stalls enclosing the toilets, and a separate area with showers covered by green and blue patterned curtains to the right.

Kio stopped at a row of vanity dressing tables and pulled open a drawer.

"Now, Ritsuka, you're cute and everything but we need to get your skin baby soft and smelling like citrus or something else delicious enough to eat."

Ritsuka gulped as the implications of that sunk in.

"Use this shampoo and follow up with this. It's a conditioning balm." He shoved two bottles into Ritsuka's arms. "Make sure to leave in the balm while you scrub yourself down with some raspberry exfoliate, and then I want you use a pouf with some milk and honey wash." He passed all this into Ritsuka's arms as well, then paused thoughtfully. "Ritsuka, I'm going to put some lotion on your towel so it sinks into your skin when you dry off, so please don't be alarmed that something slimy is on it."

"Um…" said Ritsuka, but Kio was pushing him toward the shower stalls.

"Go, go. Make sure you get everything squeaky clean. I'll be waiting for you here when you're done. I'll leave the towel just outside the curtain."

Ritsuka entered the shower in a daze and came out smelling of various passion fruits. The towel left by Kio had been heated, and the lotion he'd applied was a transparent pink gel, which absorbed almost instantly into his skin. The towel was large enough to drape around his shoulders like a cape and hung just below his knees. He approached Kio this way, who was sitting at one of the vanity tables and texting someone with an overly-dreamy expression. Ritsuka caught a flash of "-ubi" on the display before he closed it, and knew who it must be.

"Ritsuka, you smell like heaven on a tropical island!"

"…is… that good?" he asked.

"Don't be silly. The clients are going to eat you alive." He turned unconcernedly toward the vanity and began to rummage in another drawer.

"Kio… just how much… I mean… do these people…um, clients… do they use their mouths often?"

"What?" said Kio, looking at him with a frown. "Hey, drop the towel. It's powder puff time." He was holding a pink turtle-shaped container, the shell transparent and evidently removable. Beneath was a puff and a dish of loose powder.

Ritsuka suddenly felt very ill at ease.

He reached out for the container, hoping that Kio would give it to him and simply let him powder himself.

Kio stared at his outstretched hand blankly.

"What, you want the…..oh. Heh. Nah, I've got it. You won't be able to do your back."

And without so much as a by-your-leave, Kio took the towel from Ritsuka's shoulders and began to apply the powder in little pats and dabs. Ritsuka could see tiny tufts of it rising up in mushroom clouds where it escaped the puff.

Ritsuka's heart was pounding. Up till now, Soubi was the only person alive who'd ever seen him naked. Well….since puberty, anyway. And now Kio was too. Soon, any number of strangers would be included in that list. The thought made Ritsuka slightly nauseous.

He didn't have to take any clients tonight, he reminded himself. There was time. It wouldn't be tonight….

Kio moved very efficiently, mumbling to himself about needing to pick up another container and how the puff was losing its mojo. Whatever that meant.

"Here, you can put this on." Kio handed Ritsuka a plain white robe and then swiveled a chair around. "Have a seat. We don't have much left to do."

Ritsuka complied, grateful to have some sense of dignity back. He watched Kio fill and plug in a portable foot spa, which he filled with warm water and purple salts. Ritsuka stuck his feet in without being asked and Kio smiled, almost excitedly.

"Nice, right? You're going to have such cute toes."

Ritsuka had never thought toes could possibly be cute, but he decided against saying anything and allowed Kio to smear a mud masque across his face and then get to work filing and shaping his nails—which, okay, they were a little jagged from all the biting at them he'd been doing recently. He hadn't exactly been inwardly calm, even if he DID catch up on sleep during his stay with Soubi.

Just as he had been efficient with the powder, Kio was efficient with the filing, shaping, cuticle clipping, buffing, and shining of Ritsuka's nails and toenails. Ritsuka even began to wonder if Kio had gone to cosmetology school. He remembered Soubi's comment about how Kio would "be a woman about everything."

"I'm adding some nail-growing serum, too," said Kio, using a tiny brush on Ritsuka's fingernails. "Because I see you've been biting them."

Ritsuka blushed.

"This should really speed the healing process along for them, provided that you don't keep biting." Kio said this with a stern look at Ritsuka's face.

He blew on the nails for a bit, inspecting his handiwork. Ritsuka looked down at his new manicure and really COULD see what a difference it had made. Not just his nails, but also his hands, looked brand new.

"Lovely," Kio eventually pronounced. He used a warm towel to clear off the facial masque. When it was all gone, Ritsuka's skin got another "lovely" rating.

"Now," said Kio, very business-like. "Last thing. The hair."

He rubbed a frizz serum in his hands and then gelled it through Ritsuka's already straight hair, promising it would give him extra shine and bounce. Ritsuka was pretty sure whatever clients would be looking at him wouldn't be concerned with his hair, at least not the hair on top of his head. Which…

"I was going to suggest trimming and waxing up," Kio said, tapping a finger against his chin and looking down at Ritsuka's lap. "But you're pretty sparse and naturally well-landscaped down under. Good job."

Ritsuka felt his face explode into a blush. He dipped his head, hiding behind his newly glossed bangs.

Kio's voice held an unquestionable smile. "Not to worry, Little bro. I'll let you in on a secret: the chances of a client eventually wanting to watch as you and I perform on each other is pretty much a given."

Ritsuka's head snapped back up, his mouth slightly open and his eyes wide. What the HELL?

Kio laughed. "Yes! Crazy world, right? So loosen up. There's no need to be modest around me. The street will strip you of that in no time anyway."

That sick, swooping feeling rocked Ritsuka's stomach again. _It wont happen tonight,_ he told himself. _It wont happen tonight… it wont happen—_"So." Kio sat on the ledge of the vanity and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. "Do you have any questions or concerns you'd like to address before we wander back out there with all the sick perverts you now live with?"

Questions or concerns? Ritsuka didn't even know where to begin. What _wasn't_ he concerned about? What _didn't_ he question?

The task of choosing something seemed insurmountable. And as nice as Kio had been to him, Ritsuka didn't know how to open up to him in that manner yet, even if he _did _know what to say first.

"No..." Ritsuka mumbled. "Nothing."

—-

Ritsuka didn't understand how all Soubi's boys could stand it on the streets. It was _cold_. And not the metaphorical sense of the word. Kio had dressed him very scantily, giving him nothing more than a skin-tight black halter (with very revealing laces up and down the sides) and a pair of hip-hugging (and equally tight) trousers. Ritsuka had blushed scarlet and protested when Kio presented him with a tiny thong to wear underneath. But Kio insisted.

"There's no way boxers are going to fit under those pants," he said. "And if you go commando, you'll be chafing by the end of the night. Trust me."

Ritsuka didn't know how to argue that, so on went the thong.

He _did _argue, though, when Kio had brought him outside, where the icy winter wind hit Ritsuka full in the face. Teeth chattering, bones feeling like they'd frozen over instantly, Ritsuka demanded some kind of cover. And so Kio had slid a leather jacket over his shoulders.

"A-aren't the others….freezing too?" Ritsuka stammered, rubbing his hands vigorously over his forearms and elbows, trying to ward off the chill. The rest of the boys were wearing similarly revealing clothing – many of them without any sort of coat at all. They were strung out along the curb in a vague line, spaced apart every few feet.

"Eh… some of them are from colder climates and this is like a chilly autumn night to them, and others have their ways of keeping warm until a client picks them up." Kio looked pointedly over at Natsuo and Youji, who Ritsuka had been too cold and nervous to notice had taken up dancing with each other in their incredibly hooker-iffic outfits. Youji was clutching Natsuo's hips and Natsuo had his arms in the air, doing a rather impressive full body caress against Youji.

"They never stop," said Ritsuka, the amazement ringing clearly in his voice. "Do they have a stash of Viagra or something?"

Kio snickered. "I've wondered that myself. But it is a really good way to keep entertained. Want to try?"

"I really don't think I - "

"Come on," Kio pushed. "It'll be fun. Here….."

Without warning, Kio grabbed Ritsuka by the hips and pulled him in close. "We can make this work without music," he said. "Just follow my lead."

In the dark of the night, Ritsuka felt more than saw Kio begin to move against him. He rolled his eyes at the thought of what a picture the two of them must have made right then. But Kio was smiling at him and encouraging him, and soon Ritsuka found himself moving too. It wasn't hard to follow along. After a short while, he was even smiling.

Kio pulled Ritsuka tighter against his chest. "There you go, see? Fun, right?"

Ritsuka laughed a little and nodded. It _was _at least fighting off the chill. He twisted his hips.

Ritsuka heard Kio inhale sharply. "Ritsuka…..you really know how to move."

Ritsuka didn't know how to respond. Was Kio serious? Might he even be...?

"Woooo!" came Natsuo's voice from the end of the street. "_Work_ it, Ritsuka!"

Startled and highly embarrassed, Ritsuka whipped his head around at the sound. He saw Natsuo grinning and Youji right beside him, fingers at his lips and wolf-whistling.

"Ah, leave him alone, you two," said Kio. Ritsuka had tried to move away, but Kio hooked a finger into his belt and pulled him close again. "He's shy about things. You don't want to make him hide."

"I won't hide," said Ritsuka, who was determined not to cover his face with his hands.

"That's good," Said Natsuo. They had moved closer. "It brings in more customers when you entice them this way. See?" He pointed to a man in a brown coat and hat crossing the street and coming toward them. He must have come out of the bar across the street.

Ritsuka felt his stomach plummet and inched a little behind Kio.

The man's face was completely obscured in shadow – which was probably how he wanted it, Ritsuka reflected. The customers surely preferred as much anonymity as possible. He stopped right in front of Youji and Natsuo, who stood grinning at him, arms around each other.

"Can we help you with something?" Youji asked coyly. The glance that he shot at the man's crotch made his meaning unmistakable.

"Yeah," the man replied gruffly. "Both of you. Blowjob."

Natsuo giggled. "I think that can be arranged – for a small fee."

The man pulled a handful of bills out of his coat pocket. To Ritsuka's eyes, it looked more like a _large _fee. "Will this do the trick?" he asked.

"Absolutely," said Youji, taking the bills and pocketing them. "You won't be disappointed. Working together is our specialty, isn't that right, Natsuo?"

Natsuo hummed in agreement, his smile positively sinister in Ritsuka's opinion. "We can go right behind there." He nudged his chin toward the side of their house, where a sturdy but dumpy wooden fence blocked the view from the vacant grocery store building beside it.

"But, uh…" said Youji. "Ritsuka's going to watch."

The man's eyes darted between Kio and Ritsuka.

"Yeah," said Kio. "don't worry, we wont charge you extra." He leaned into Ritsuka's ear and whispered, "You can see how it works. This is a good opportunity."

"Fine," said the man. "Just him, though."

Youji and Natsuo cupped hands and began to follow him into the shadows. Ritsuka stared after them, his heart hammering, and Kio gave his back a little shove.

"Go on, little bro. I'll be waiting."

_I chose this….I chose this…_Ritsuka reminded himself. His feet felt like leaden blocks as he trailed after Youji and Natsuo. He didn't have to do anything but watch. And he could even close his eyes if he wanted. No one would know.

By the time Ritsuka had carried himself over to the spot, everyone was already in position. Youji and Natsuo were on their knees in front of the stranger, who leaned against the brick wall with his legs shoulder-width apart. Their hands were crawling up and down the man's thighs, but it seemed that even that much foreplay was unwanted. The man unbuttoned and unzipped his trousers with a sickening efficiency.

They took turns at first, then both began working up and down either side. Ritsuka was sorry to see that the moon and the bright lights across the street illuminated the aclove enough for Ritsuka could see detail: the shine of saliva and precum, the faint twitch of the man's anatomy. Ritsuka felt his stomach go sour, like he'd just drunk a glass of bad milk. He clutched a hand to his mouth and willed himself to look away but found that he couldn't. Again he found himself wondering, how _could _they do this so easily? Ritsuka didn't think he could take a stranger into his mouth. How much worse would it be to take someone into his body?

The man moaned out suddenly, and Ritsuka blinked through the silvery darkness, watching the man spill himself on the ground while Youji and Natsuo both worked him with their fists.

Ritsuka felt another hot wave of dizziness roll over him. The man zipped up his pants and hurried away without a word, and Ritsuka turned away and was sick all over the pebble-spotted dirt. He felt one of the boys rubbing his back, and was sick again wondering if that was the hand he had just used to bring that strange man to orgasm.

"The first time seeing it is always the worst….it'll get easier."

It was Natsuo's voice. Ritsuka couldn't respond, though. His throat was still convulsing and his mouth tasted like bile. He felt an arm slip around his front, easing him up from his doubled-over position. When Ritsuka was upright again, he saw that it was Youji supporting him.

"Let's get him into the house," Youji was saying to Natsuo. "Wash his mouth."

Ritsuka stumbled along between them, barely seeing where he was going. Eventually he felt the fluorescent lights of the house beating down on him. Then a toothbrush and toothpaste were being stuffed into his hands, along with a miniature bottle of mouthwash.

His hands were shaking as he cleaned his teeth. Youji and Natsuo stayed on either side of him the whole time. In the back of his mind, Ritsuka thanked them for that. Despite knowing that it was their actions that had made him sick…their presence now was a comfort.

"Kio will be wondering where we all are," Natuso murmured, when Ritsuka was done. "We need to get back out there."

Outside on the street again, the icy wind was all the colder. Ritsuka shivered and shook as they made their way back to Kio.

"Hey, there you guys are!" Kio said brightly when they approached. "I was wondering what was….wait, what happened to Ritsuka?"

"He threw up," said Youji, very blunt.

Kio's lips twisted sympathetically."You aren't the only one who's thrown up after something like that, little bro. I did too, the first time I saw a client. It was terrible. But it will get easier….you'll see."

"I don't know," he found himself saying, although he swore he wouldn't mention his misgivings. "I really don't know, Kio."

"You _can_," said Kio, placing an arm around Ritsuka's shoulders. "You learn to separate yourself from the emotional. It's just sex, Ritsuka, I know that sounds disgusting and wrong, but it is purely a physical thing. It's like giving someone a massage."

"It's true," said Natsuo. "You slept with Soubi. Numerous times, I'm sure, and you must know that he is not an emotional person."

Embarrassment and guilt seemed to war with each other as Ritsuka felt Kio tense beside him. He was sure Kio knew what was going on between them while Ritsuka stayed with Soubi….but Ritsuka was sure it couldn't be easy to hear.

"Look, Ritsuka," said Youji. He yanked him from beneath Kio's arm and tucked him beneath his own. "Just watch what we do a few more times and see if it doesn't get easier."

Ritsuka really didn't like the sound of that. He didn't know if he could manage to witness such a thing again, let alone do it himself. What was he going to do if he threw up every time it happened? Clients weren't going to appreciate that. Neither would Soubi. Soubi would fire him if Ritsuka couldn't keep it together. He'd kick Ritsuka out of the house and then Ritsuka would be right back under his overpass, half-starved and alone.

The thought made him shudder violently. Ritsuka had to try to do this. He had to. He had to give it his best effort and fight his feelings. Remove the emotional side of things from the equation, just like Kio said. It was the only way.

Ritsuka heard the sound of an engine purring. He kept his head down, staring at the concrete of the sidewalk. He didn't need to look up in order to know it was another client. And he really didn't need the image of another client right now.

The purring grew louder and louder, until tires came into Ritsuka's narrow field of vision, rolling up next to the curb.

Strangely, Ritsuka felt the boys on the street crowd in closer. Some of them were murmuring to each other and some were chuckling darkly. Youji and Natsuo were shifting on their feet, tossing their hair as though posing.

"What's going—" Ritsuka began, but Kio cut him off.

"Now here's a good example of the upshot of this job." He gestured toward the car, a glossy black Rolls Royce. It was idling slowly by, no doubt to give the driver a good look at his selection. "That is Soubi's best client."

Ritsuka stood up on his tiptoes, trying to get a glimpse of the person inside. "Why is he Soubi's best client?" he asked.

"He's never late with money, never hurts any of the boys, and…." Kio replied, "is actually pretty smoking hot."

Ritsuka glanced at Kio curiously. "Really?"

Kio smirked. "Really. It's not even like work when you go home with him. Almost every one of us go with him on a night off just for the hell of it."

Ritsuka turned back toward the car, staring at it distantly. It really was a very pretty car. It wasn't hard to imagine that its owner could be attractive.

"You'll meet him eventually." Kio went on. "He never plays favorites. A lot of the boys have tried to change that, of course…"

The car had rolled to a stop in front of Kio, the driver's side window rolling down smoothly. Ritsuka heard a refined-sounding cough come from inside the vehicle, and Kio promptly moved closer. He bent down to meet the driver at eye-level.

Trying to hide the fact that he was eavesdropping, Ritsuka strained to hear the conversation.

"How much is Soubi asking for the new boy?" came the driver's voice. It was so smooth and pleasant, Ritsuka could actually hear the smile on the driver's face.

Kio made a regretful clucking noise with his tongue. "Sorry…he's just observing tonight. Not taking clients."

"Hmmm…." came the driver's voice again, sounding more thoughtful than disappointed. "He's very cute, Kio. I assume you dressed him?"

Kio gave an embarrassed little laugh and nodded.

"I thought so." Ritsuka could hear the smile again. "I'd be willing to pay double for him, you know. Do you think you could manage it for me?"

"Hmm…" Kio's voice sounded absurdly flirtatious. "I can't promise anything, even for you. But if you give me a few minutes to conference with him, I'll see what I can do."

"What!" Ritsuka shrieked at Kio as he turned around. "Kio! Why would you—"

"Be quiet and come here." Kio snapped up Ritsuka's elbow and dragged him closer toward the house, out of the client's earshot.

"What the HELL, Kio?" Ritsuka wailed. "You know I'm not—!"

"Settle down and _listen _to me, for goodness sake. I know you aren't sure of this, but I'm telling you," he leaned down to Ritsuka's level and grabbed hold of his shoulders. "You _will not_ get another first client like this. This is astounding luck you're having, him asking for you."

"But, I can't—"

"But you can with _him_. He knows you're new, and he understands that you're nervous. That I told him you were only observing tonight makes it impossible for him to not realize that. But he's patient. He'll make sure you're comfortable and relaxed before he tries anything. He's _good _at it, Ritsuka. You'll enjoy yourself."

Ritsuka hesitated, wanting to protest more. But Kio sounded dead serious about this. This guy wasn't going to hurt him, that was obvious. But…

"Ritsuka," said Kio. "Please, please trust me on this. It's just downright idiotic to pass this up."

"But I'm scared." Ritsuka felt his lower lip tremble, and Kio smiled maternally at him.

"It's okay to be scared, Ritsuka. But you wont be for long, not if you go with him. Trust me."

Ritsuka swallowed hard and shivered again, then gave a tentative nod. Kio grinned and hugged him, then took his hand and led him back over to the Rolls Royce. Ritsuka could see his reflection in the glossy surface; he inhaled bravely.

Kio leaned down again at the window. He smiled at the driver and nodded. "He says he'll do it."

Ritsuka heard a soft chuckle come from the driver. "Wonderful. I really appreciate it."

"Hey..." Kio murmured, sounding absurdly flirtatious again. "I'll give you a two for one deal if I can come along."

"Oh, Kio, you know I'm not into that sort of thing," the driver replied. "Besides...I'm already paying double tonight. I won't be needing an extra side dish. Just the entree will do."

Kio huffed. "Fine," he said, turning to Ritsuka and taking him by the elbow. "Get in, you little brat."

Kio stalked to the passenger side and opened the door, shoving Ritsuka bodily inside.

Ritsuka pulled in his legs to avoid Kio slamming the door on them and peered out the window into his disgruntled face.

"You'll be fine," Kio insisted, losing most of his sourness. "See you in a few hours." And he walked back toward Natsuo and Youji, who were also looking like they had just been gypped out of a birthday present.

Ritsuka slid his hands between his knees to keep them from fidgeting and tried to breathe in a rhythm that was both calming and wouldn't make it sound like he was imitating a panting dog. It was difficult, but the seat was plush and comfortable, the interior of the car was deliciously warm, and the purr of the engine felt like a welcoming embrace.

"Are you not going to let me see those beautiful eyes of yours?" asked the client.

Ritsuka knew that voice. He _knew _it and yet he couldn't place it. His insides were writhing with apprehension, and his heart was pounding so hard he could hear the blood pumping through his ears. Despite all this, he swallowed hard and forced himself to meet the stranger's gaze.

Like a speed-demon crashing into a brick wall, Ritsuka's heart slammed to a stop.

Not a stranger.

_His _stranger, the Beautiful Stranger, was staring with calm gentility back at him.

"I must admit," he said with a smile, "you look much more fetching without the milk."

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><p><em>-BC3 &amp; MagicMind<em>


	6. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER SIX  
><strong>

**WARNING: This chapter contains slash of a fairly explicit variety. (You aren't surprised though, are you?)**

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><p><strong>Authors' Notes: <strong>

**Bratchild3: I was supposed to get one of my SP chapters out this weekend as well, but my desktop is at Geek Squad and I could only stand my laptop long enough to update one fic. This one is long overdue and should have been out weeks ago. Be sure to read the warnings for this chapter! Enjoy!**

**Magic Mind: So sorry for the long wait! Hopefully the EXTREME length of this chapter will make up for it. We loved writing this chapter so much….both of us had talked about it for months for it was all set down and done. Please let us know what you think! And thank you so much to all the reviewers and readers out there!**

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><p>The crazy thing was he felt 100 times more nervous.<p>

The crazy thing was he had dreamed of intimate and sensual exchanges between himself and his Beautiful Stranger a handful of times since they'd seen each other last. Since the only time they had seen each other.

The crazy thing was that part of him had wanted this, but his fantasies were a far cry from reality-he hadn't been a hooker in them.

He was pretty hot, Kio had said, and if Ritsuka weren't so stunned and didn't have quite so many butterflies fighting to break through his stomach, he would have snorted his disapproval. Stupid Kio. He failed to mention "hot" was an understatement, that "hot" was all he could come up with because there wasn't any way to accurately portray this man's sex appeal. He was delicious and his crisp, clean scent only added to it.

The word swam around Ritsuka's brain; he WAS a man, but a fairly young one. He couldn't be more than 25, was Ritsuka's guess. Not that it mattered, really. Ritsuka didn't care about his age, he only cared about making it through this without it totally backfiring.

The stranger was driving smoothly down a busy highway, hands steady on the wheel. Ritsuka marveled at his calm control. Every movement was made with a steady predictability – like he knew exactly what movements to make five minutes before he made them.

Suddenly the stranger laughed, completely apropos of nothing.

Ritsuka glanced at him curiously.

The man took his eyes off the road for a brief moment and looked back, meeting Ritsuka's gaze.

"It's just that…." the man said, smiling, "I realize that despite our 'meeting' the other day….we've never actually met. I'm Seimei Aoyagi."

Confused, Ritsuka watched him a moment. Then, before he could stop himself: "But we didn't meet the other day. That was weeks ago."

Seimei laughed again. "So it was. Do excuse my chronological inaccuracy, mister….?"

Ritsuka felt himself go hot in the face, and he sunk lower into the seat, lowering his chin to his chest. Why did he have to correct him like that? _Why_?

"Ritsuka," he murmured.

"Just Ritsuka?" Seimei asked casually, changing lanes.

"Just Ritsuka."

He suddenly felt a bit moody and haughty and he wasn't sure why. Probably because he embarrassed himself. Also because he was getting more nervous by the second. Seimei was driving to the good side of town, the rich side, the side he was too scummy for.

Seimei, though, he liked that name. Would it be prudent to tell him that? Too late now, though. His chance to flirt had passed him by, and according to Kio, he _was _supposed to be flirting.

How was he supposed to flirt with someone he was attracted to? It was so embarrassing.

"I see…" Seimei replied with a nod. "Well….perhaps in the future I can persuade you to give me a bit more than that."

Ritsuka didn't know whether he was imagining things or not, but it sounded very much like Seimei was taking up the flirting baton on his own. There was a certain drawl to his voice….very subtle, but definitely suggestive.

And really….Ritsuka _could_ see himself being persuaded by this man. The thought scared him but it also sent shivers along his spine.

Seimei turned away from the road once more, taking in Ritsuka's curled-up position.

"Are you cold?" he asked.

Now that he mentioned it, Ritsuka was actually feeling a bit warm. He straightened a bit, but kept his hands clamped between his knees. "Not anymore, thanks."

Thanks? ...it was so impersonal. He wasn't ready for this. At all. Kio should have tutored him in the art of seduction first. What would happen if Seimei dumped him off on the side of the road and then he had to make his way back and explain to Soubi that his best client thinks he's rubbish?

Biting his lip, Ritsuka tried hard not to panic. ...Seimei wouldn't do that. This was the same person who had bought him a snack and given up his milk. He was too kind to do that. Worst case scenario, he'd simply DRIVE Ritsuka back and take up with that cute boy Kano and Soubi would never have to know he'd been rejected.

Seimei smiled at him. He was pulling off on one of the exits, and Ritsuka's fears about the wealth of the area were confirmed. Out the window, Ritsuka could see nothing but skyscrapers and polished, expensive cars. He felt like an old tin can thrown into a jewelry box.

"Very good," Seimei was saying. "I would hate to have you hiding yourself from me. Soubi does generally have good taste…..but you are a cut above his usual fare."

Ritsuka looked back at Seimei and blinked twice. Was this guy serious or did he talk to all of them that way? Not knowing what else to say, he voiced exactly what he had just been thinking.

"Kano is the best looking out of all of us."

In fact, Kano had been a model until he was fired for underage drinking. He was cute and sweet and flirty, but Ritsuka wasn't stupid enough to tell Seimei all THAT. He wasn't here to advertise the other boys. Realization began to sink in that he shouldn't have mentioned Kano at all.

"Hmmm," murmured Seimei. "Kano is attractive, it's true…but as for the notion of him being the best-looking of all of you… we may have to simply agree to disagree on that."

And he gave Ritsuka another once-over, though this one was decidedly longer and lingering.

Ritsuka was caught somewhere between the grainy sting of jealousy and the silky caress of flattery. He was seriously THAT familiar with Soubi's boys that he knew exactly who Kano was by name? What was more, he thought Ritsuka was better looking than Kano? ...No. It was impossible.

Seimei turned onto a side street and Ritsuka was met with a well-lit garage underneath a spectacular high-rise building. Seimei drove carefully up to a keypad at the garage entrance. After pushing a series of keys, a yellow bar blocking their path swung up, allowing them passage.

It wasn't long before Seimei was pulling into a parking space. There was a sign overhead reading "Penthouse" in elegant cursive font.

Ritsuka stared around, admiring the rows of luxury cars glistening beneath a few white ball lamps. He didn't even notice Seimei exit the car and move around to the passenger side until the door slid open and he presented his hand to help Ritsuka out.

His clean, masculine hand, which looked much more inviting than it should have. Ritsuka stared down at it and then placed his own inside of it. Inwardly, he thanked Kio for giving him a five-star salon worthy manicure.

"Here we are," said Seimei, smiling down at Ritsuka, apparently in no hurry.

Ritsuka's stomach swooped and he suddenly worried that his palm would be damp and sweaty inside Seimei's grasp. He lowered his legs out onto the concrete and stood up….then was promptly aware of just how little space there was between Seimei's car and the one next to it. Which meant that there was very little space in which to fit two bodies plus an open Rolls Royce door.

Which meant that Ritsuka was all put pressed to Seimei's front.

Seimei didn't let go of Ritsuka's hand. In fact, he seemed not to mind their close proximity at all. His eyes fairly glittered under the lights. And this close….that clean, crisp scent surrounding him was all the more potent.

In the days and months and years to follow, Ritsuka would never remember the walk to Seimei's penthouse; he could only remember Seimei and the feel of his firm yet gentle grip, his warm voice, his rich laughter. He had made idle conversation, had pointed out various things along the way, but Ritsuka couldn't recall any of it.

Ritsuka did not, however, forget one minute of what transpired after they arrived.

Seimei's penthouse looked like a page out of an interior designer's portfolio. After Seimei had turned the key and held the door open for him, Ritsuka was immediately met with a small foyer followed by a beautiful sitting room. He couldn't stop staring. All around him was the glow of various lamps, their box shades softening the light into diffuse halos. A few well-placed candles added to the effect. There were white couches, crisp and modern, arranged around the room and in the middle was a sleek black coffee table. Ritsuka saw fresh lilies arranged in a vase sitting on top of it. There was even a stone sculpture in one of the corners.

But what caught Ritsuka's attention more than anything was the fireplace nestled into the far wall. Inside, flames crackled gently, fed by a few wooden logs.

"The staff are good to me," Seimei murmured with a smile, gesturing toward the fireplace. "They somehow manage to find firewood in the middle of the city."

Ritsuka nodded vaguely. There was something above the fireplace mantle that had caught his attention-it looked like miniature art work and he wanted a better look, but he didn't want to appear too nosey. It was also pretty toasty, and he was sure even more so by the fire. If that's where they were even headed.

"Um..." he said, turning back toward Seimei but not quite able to meet his gaze. "What can I do with...?" he tugged a bit at his jacket.

"Ah. Let me – I'll hang it for you."

Seimei set his keys down on a nearby side table. Then he moved behind Ritsuka, reaching around and sliding the jacket down Ritsuka's shoulders. Ritsuka felt the skin of his shoulders and arms becoming steadily more exposed as the jacket fell.

He shivered and wasn't sure if it was the faint brush of Seimei's fingers against the bare skin of his arms, or the slight chill he felt. Unsure if he should take a seat or remain standing, he turned back toward Seimei, rubbing nervously at one naked arm.

Seimei was standing unmoving, the jacket still held up in his grasp. He was blinking wordlessly at Ritsuka. For the first time, Seimei seemed unbalanced. Some of that calm control had been peeled back and replaced with something else...something that Ritsuka couldn't identify.

Feeling self-conscious, Ritsuka looked down and rubbed the back of his neck. "Uh... Kio dressed me."

Stupid! he scolded himself. Why was he apologizing for dressing like hooker? He WAS one.

Seimei took one step back, a smile gracing his features. He shook his head back and forth disbelievingly. He didn't take his eyes off of Ritsuka. Not even when he said, "Well….Kio's talent for wardrobe choice has been severely underrated."

Ritsuka watched Seimei hang up his jacket with care, as if it were something deserving of respect, like Ritsuka were an important guest or something.

"Come in, have a seat," said Seimei when he was through. He placed a warm hand against the back of Ritsuka's shoulder and led him closer to the fireplace. He directed Ritsuka into one of the fluffy armchairs by the fire, and Seimei himself sat on a matching sofa facing him.

Ritsuka felt the warmth of the fire bathe him….it was very pleasant. Calming, even.

"Can I get you anything?" Seimei was asking. "Wine?"

Normally Ritsuka didn't drink wine; in fact, he had NEVER drank wine. But Seimei was being so hospitable, he felt it would be rude to turn it down.

"Yeah, that would be good. If it's not too much trouble."

"Not at all."

Seimei made his way to a long bar counter behind the couches, which held what looked like a series of crystal decanters and matching tumblers. They were filled with various red and clear liquids. A few more candles were there as well, off to one side.

Vaguely hearing the sounds of glasses being poured, Ritsuka's attention was again drawn to the fireplace, and the miniature artwork above the mantle. He didn't realize that Seimei had returned to him until a wine glass was held out in front of him, halfway full of something fragrant.

Seimei gestured at the mantle with his own glass. "Do you like it?" he asked.

Ritsuka took his glass with a timid "thanks," then looked back at the art, which happened to be sketches of various landscapes filled in with watercolor. "I like the color palette. It works well with the rest of the room. And the use of shadow is amazing. I wish mine looked that realistic."

Seimei paused in the middle of his sitting down, eyes sparking. "You paint?"

"No... well, I used to, but I was only getting started with it. I don't know much about mixing colors or anything. But I sketch."

Seimei smiled again; this smile seemed wider than any of the others so far.

"Wow…" he murmured. "Art is something I've tried numerous times without an iota of success. I always marvel when someone can draw."

"Mine aren't anything special," Ritsuka told him. He was scared that Seimei would get it into his head that Ritsuka was some kind of educated, cultured fine artist. He was nothing but an amateur, and not a spectacular one, at that.

"Hmmm….will you show me some of them sometime?"

"I... really?" he asked, and smiled for the first time when Seimei gave a single, sophisticated nod. Did this mean he wanted to see him again? "Sure. It's nothing really great. Soubi has seen them..."

"Did he say anything about them?"

"Oh, he said a mouthful. He also gave me a lot of money for a few of them." He paused to sip at his wine. It was sweet, but not sickly so. It was actually really good.

"I see," chuckled Seimei. "You know….I do have a few dark chocolates. Would you like one? They complement the wine perfectly. And they have the added bonus of being potent aphrodisiacs."

He sent a playful wink in Ritsuka's direction.

Having been looking up at Seimei, Ritsuka got the full force of that gesture and felt it right in his gut. Unfortunately, he had been about to set down his wineglass in the same moment, and fumbled it. The contents spilled across the table.

"Sorry! I'm so sorry!" Ritsuka said, standing abruptly.

Seimei moved to stand too, not even looking at the wine spreading precariously over the tabletop. Instead, he was watching Ritsuka.

"It's alright, really," he insisted, shaking his head. "Accidents happen. I have some towels in the -"

"No no no, it's red! It will stain everything!"

Ritsuka felt himself panicking. Even though he knew he shouldn't, that it wouldn't help anything, he couldn't help the burning in his throat. Couldn't relieve the tightness in his lungs.

Seimei stepped forward, taking hold of Ritsuka's shoulders across the coffee table. Despite the touch, Ritsuka couldn't take his eyes off spilled wine between them. It looked like an ocean of deep red.

"Ritsuka," Seimei said, quiet but firm. It was enough to get Ritsuka's full attention.

"It will be fine. You just wait here….I'll get the towels."

And then throw me out, I'm sure, thought Ritsuka, looking immediately back at what was becoming a larger and larger stain the moment Seimei walked away.

_Why_ was he klutzy? Why did he have to flip the freak out each time Seimei attempted to flirt with him? He knew he couldn't do this. He _told_ Kio he couldn't do this! It was all his fault for not listening!

That was it. As soon as Seimei came back he was going to inform him that Kio owed him a new coffee table, new carpet, _and_a new sofa.

He crossed his arms defiantly.

Seimei returned with a small stack of pristine white towels. He set about laying two over the coffee table and using the remaining ones to dab at the carpets underneath.

Which were, to Ritsuka's utter horror, also white.

"There's no harm done, really," Seimei said reassuringly when he was done. "It's not the first wine spill I've encountered and it won't be the last."

Ritsuka had no idea what to say to that. His legs were feeling too shaky to hold up his own weight, and he fell back into his seat with a soft plop. It seemed like the evening was well and truly over. And just when he had thought that he could do this. Seimei was so wonderfully charming….

"Ritsuka…..I'll understand if you don't want to answer but I….I can't help but wonder….I know you're new to Soubi's house but I wonder if you're also new to….being with someone. Outside of doing it for a living."

"... You think I'm a v-" Ritsuka stopped. The looked on Seimei's face was all the confirmation he needed. "I...no! I mean, I'm not as advanced as Youji and Natsuo or anything but Soubi made sure to break me in well and good."

Seimei nodded, still looking a little taken aback. "So it's just….nerves, then? About being with a paying customer for the first time?"

Ritsuka could feel heat curling up his face, but he forced himself to keep eye contact. Seimei didn't sound upset at all, which Ritsuka didn't get at all, but he still figured he could use that to his advantage. He wasn't smooth by any means, but maybe he could fake it and get things back on track. He should flirt. And to do that, all he would have to do was say exactly what was on his mind.

"Partly, but…" No, he couldn't do it. His eyes shifted downward, and he began to rub at his arm again. "but I guess it's mostly because I… I didn't expect my first client to be YOU. You're very handsome. I didn't think I would be attracted to any of my clients."

Yeah, he felt about twenty shades of stupid right now.

He kept his head down, but managed to roll his eyes back up, peering at Seimei through his eyelashes.

Seimei blinked thoughtfully at him for a few beats, saying nothing at all. He went so long without speaking that Ritsuka began to wonder if he'd botched things up royally and been too forward. Maybe Seimei LIKED having his call boys shy? Maybe he preferred to always make the moves?

Just when Ritsuka had decided that yeah, he had made things even worse, and yeah, he was done for….Seimei leaned back in his couch with a small, hesitant smile.

"Hmm," he said. "Ritsuka…why don't you come and sit and next to me?"

Oh God. Sit next to his hotness? He would probably melt. Probably, though, that was a good thing. They couldn't very well get on with this if Ritsuka stayed on the opposite end of the room.

He nodded and moved forward, not knowing if it was okay to stare at Seimei or not. It felt kind of threatening, but maybe it was sexy? God, he was over thinking it. It wasn't a big deal! He just needed to cross the damn room and sit down!

He managed it, at least, and sat tenderly on the edge of the sofa in the very corner, leaving a good amount of space between the two of them. He shot Seimei what was surely a nervous and completely unsure smile and was somehow able to NOT look away this time. The light of the fire was dancing gently across Seimei's face, highlighting his features instead of casting them in shadow. Man… he was gorgeous. It twisted Ritsuka's thoughts in a whole new direction, and he had to wonder: WHY was Seimei taking up with call boys? There was no way he couldn't find a date that was acceptable to society. It was a physiological impossibility.

Ritsuka felt Seimei slide closer to him, knocking his train of thought completely askew. Seimei was close enough now that their thighs were touching. It was ridiculous, Ritsuka thought, that the space between them now felt even warmer than the fire crackling mere feet away.

"You are far more handsome than I," said Seimei. "Your eyes….your skin…."

Ritsuka couldn't believe it. Who was it that Seimei saw when he looked at him? Surely not the gangly teenager in the mirror?

"And the way you're dressed..." Seimei went on. "It does things to a man."

He trailed his fingers lightly down Ritsuka's arm, from his exposed shoulder all the way to the inside of his wrist. The fingers rubbed lightly there, back and forth.

Even that small gesture, which would undoubtedly be likened to a mere handshake to the other boys, sent a rush of carnal need straight down Ritsuka's stomach. He barely choked down a breathy gasp and managed to hide it behind a very obvious swallow. His pulse points began throbbing, sending blood humming through his veins.

It was far too soon before Seimei pulled his hand away; Ritsuka felt the loss of his touch with a painful ache. When he turned to see what had prompted Seimei to stop, he found that Seimei was busying himself with his cufflinks, removing them from the cuffs of his shirt and tossing them onto the coffee table. Then Seimei rolled up his shirtsleeves, folding them neatly up and up until they reached his elbows.

Then Seimei turned back to him again.

"Let's see if we can't get you more comfortable," he said. He shifted so that his back was resting against the couch's armrest, one leg resting along the back of the couch and the other bent at the knee, foot on the floor. Even in slacks, he made the pose look effortless.

Seimei gestured toward himself. "Come and lean against me."

Ritsuka swallowed again. There was no way to mistake Seimei's meaning. He wanted Ritsuka to sit between his legs.

Ritsuka was hyper-aware of every movement he made as he maneuvered himself into the position. Even when he made it there, he sat up straight, allowing no part of himself to intrude on Seimei's body.

"Like this," Seimei urged, voice suddenly a bit deeper. He slid his hands around Ritsuka's waist, pulling him closer into the V of his thighs.

Ritsuka heard the words, "lean back" being spoken into his ear, and then his back was flush against Seimei's chest.

He felt Seimei nodding behind him. "That's it."

The sensation of two large, warm hands against his shoulders brought on a wave of comfort he had not been expecting. And when Seimei's fingers began to knead the taught muscles beneath his skin, he felt himself become instantly heavier as his body began to relax. Seimei's touch was the perfect blend of thorough and delicate, and Ritsuka felt gooseflesh spread across his skin as those hands began working down his arms.

Their positions made it so that every word Seimei said was spoken right into Ritsuka's ear. Ritsuka could feel Seimei's breath skating over his skin, like a softer, more teasing version of his touch.

"How is it?" Seimei asked. "Would you like it harder? Softer?"

Ritsuka couldn't answer. He wanted to tell Seimei how good it felt, how Seimei shouldn't change a thing, but the words were lodged in his throat and stuck there.

"….just right?" Seimei prodded. His hands were kneading into Ritsuka's biceps.

Ritsuka managed a nod at that. He felt his head dipping forward, so relaxed that the effort at holding it up seemed too great. He felt Seimei's lips touch his ear, curving into a smile there.

"There you go," Seimei murmured. "Just relax."

It was as if Seimei's voice had manifested into a solid form. The tickling sensation it sent down Ritsuka's back was so intense, so arousing, he couldn't stop a soft, humming moan from slipping past his lips.

Ritsuka heard a gulping sound from behind him, and realized it must have come from Seimei himself. Then there were soft, cool lips pressing kisses against his neck, and Ritsuka forgot how to breathe.

Running purely on instinct, he felt his head loll to the side, giving Seimei access to a wider expanse of his throat and neck. At the same time he had arched back, pushing closer into the hard chest beneath his back. His hands latched onto the lean thighs on either side of him, and Seimei's kisses became more pronounced and demanding.

"Ritsuka…." Seimei ground out, in between kisses. Ritsuka felt himself whimper in response. He didn't know how things had become so heated so quickly. And yet….there was no mistaking it. Seimei latched onto the space where his neck became his shoulder and sucked powerfully. Ritsuka arched back again, and this time, he felt a bulge pressing against his bottom.

He was shuddering too much to properly absorb everything that was happening; the warmth and wet and breath and sharp graze of teeth had him gasping and panting, squirming and arching against the bulge that was becoming increasingly larger.

To his dismay, Seimei broke off with a few lingering kisses, and Ritsuka stilled for a moment, then moaned again as Seimei's hands came to life and began gliding up his sides and over his stomach.

"Good?" Seimei asked, his voice all breath. "Look at me."

Ritsuka complied, his eyes half-lidded. It WAS good, it was so good… it was…

Seimei's lips were on his, pressing and moving, absorbing the gratified noise that Ritsuka's next breath expelled.

With a mind of its own, Ritsuka's hand came up and laid itself against Seimei's neck, holding him in place as they kissed. He could feel Seimei's tongue run along the seam of his lips, coaxing them to open, and Ritsuka could do nothing but obey. And then their tongues were curling and pushing back against each other. It took a few seconds to establish a rhythm, but when it finally happened, Ritsuka saw stars.

Seimei's hands were roaming freely now, up and down his sides….over the flat of his stomach…higher, up to his chest, too, where Seimei's fingers fanned back and forth over his nipples. Ritsuka moaned again, and the sound was again caught in Seimei's mouth. Every noise that Ritsuka made seemed to fuel Seimei's efforts. Now Ritsuka could feel Seimei's hands sliding down again, over his bellybutton, and then lower still. They slid over the waistband of his pants. And then Ritsuka felt a few fingers slide teasingly underneath.

The fingers skimmed along, slowly and carefully following the contours of his waist. When they reached the sharp protrusions of Ritsuka's hipbones, they paused. A few seconds later, Ritsuka realized why.

Seimei was feeling the waistband of his thong now.

His fingers hooked immediately underneath the thin strings. Surely Seimei knew what Ritsuka was wearing now…he was pulling the strings up slightly, until they peeked out of the top of Ritsuka's pants.

And then immediately, Ritsuka heard a low, almost pained sound escape Seimei's lips. Seimei was shifting behind him. That bulge at his bottom was rocking minutely forward and back.

Oh God, Ritsuka thought, covering his mouth in an attempt to muffle the choked gasps emanating from his throat. Seimei liked it, and his evident desire make the front of Ritsuka's pants swell further. One of Seimei's hands glided over it, and Ritsuka cried out, feeling himself throb beneath the pressure.

Seimei's hand curled around him, gentle but still firm. His lips were at brushing over Ritsuka's earlobe. They were soft and smooth but every few seconds, Ritsuka would feel the sharp bite of teeth sinking down. When Seimei's hand curled even more firmly around him and began to stroke, Ritsuka cried out again. Louder.

There was a rush of warm breath in his ear and Seimei let out a tortured moaned. He moved out from beneath Ritsuka and pinned him against the cushions, kissing him again on the mouth and quickly establishing a deep, dominating rhythm. Ritsuka tried to control himself, but whimper after soft whimper escaped him each time Seimei's tongue thrust against his.

Seimei's hips were rocking against him again, now more than ever. They were aligned perfectly along the couch cushions. With every undulation, their hipbones brushed and Ritsuka could feel Seimei straining through his slacks, right there against his front. Ritsuka found himself wanting more. As good as it had been up to now, and as good as it WAS now, he wanted more. Closer. Deeper.

He slid a knee between Seimei's thighs and wrapped his legs tight around his, arching upward, his arms looping around Seimei's neck.

It felt like flames to Ritsuka, the way they were clinging and clutching at each other. Seimei's movements were becoming more and more demanding. His teeth were biting into Ritsuka's neck, and Ritsuka burned with the sensation. But there was Seimei's tongue, too, laving at his skin and soothing the sting. He was grinding hard against Ritsuka's thigh. Where the force of his desire pressed, Ritsuka felt a heavy, intense yearning.

Without any forethought, his hands inches their way down Seimei's back, nails gliding across the fabric. When he reached the firm edge of a belt, he traced it around to the front.

Seimei broke off, leaning up on his hands and providing a wedge of space between their torsos; Ritsuka began undoing each of the buttons on Seimei's button down, revealing a smooth, slightly golden chest. He wasn't buff, and Ritsuka was glad for that. He was slender but toned, and it felt and looked absolutely perfect beneath his curious hands.

Ritsuka was surprised at how hard Seimei was breathing - his chest rose and fell noticeably. Ritsuka traced every contour and curve he could find, drinking in the sight of someone so beautiful welcoming his touch. Though still breathing deeply (and shifting his hips every now and then), Seimei let him look and touch his fill.

There was a faint dusting of hair below Seimei's belly button, which grew more and more dark before it disappeared under his belt. Ritsuka's fingers curled underneath the belt, toying with it, knowing what lay beyond it and lusting for it.

He was getting so excited he was quivering. The belt was military style, all soft black vinyl with a solid, square buckle. He flicked his finger against the metal, his nail sending a faint clink into the air, then tugged at the excess length that had been tucked into a loophole on his slacks. The belt looked enticing against Seimei's flat stomach, especially with the bulge just beneath. He tugged harder, the action causing their arousal to briefly brush together.

Seimei retreated suddenly, and Ritsuka began to panic, thinking he had done something wrong, but then Seimei stood and scooped Ritsuka into his arms.

Ritsuka's arms instinctively wound themselves around Seimei's neck, fearing that they'd overbalance and go crashing to the ground. But Seimei held him secure and steady, one arm behind Ritsuka's back and the other underneath his knees. He carried him over to the same bar counter that held the wine decanters and the candles; Ritsuka had no idea what Seimei was planning. He didn't need a drink right now! He needed to undo that belt...to get inside...

But suddenly Seimei set Ritsuka down, sitting him up on the edge of the counter. He kept one hand curved around Ritsuka's hip, standing close between Ritsuka's legs. With the other, Seimei pushed the decanters far over toward the candles, roughly, seemingly uncaring of the possibility of the bottles spilling or even breaking.

Then he fit himself snugly in the V of Ritsuka's thighs, wound his arm around Ritsuka's hips, and pulled them both nearer to the center of the counter.

Seimei began kisses at Ritsuka's throat, undoing the ties lacing up the sides of his "shirt," emblazing fire through Ritsuka's core again. In response he unbuckled Seimei's belt and tugged open his slacks. He felt his shirt give way and it was tossed to the floor.

"It's okay. You can touch me," Seimei said, panting against Ritsuka's cheek. "Please do." His lips reattached to Ritsuka's, and Ritsuka's hand slid between the parted material to what lay beneath.

At the first brush of contact, Seimei managed to inch even closer. Emboldened by how welcome his touch seemed to be, Ritsuka slid his hand further, until it came right to the base of Seimei's length. His hand was too small to encompass it all at once, but Seimei didn't seem to mind. His kiss came deeper now, jaw widening with the effort to control Ritsuka's mouth.

Ritsuka began a few tentative strokes. He was unsure of what Seimei would like best and how Seimei would want it and how Seimei was kissing him was making it very hard to consider the issue. But it felt so very _good_ to be touching Seimei here...he didn't want to stop because he didn't yet know the proper way. He tried a few twists at the end of his strokes, flexing his wrist, and Seimei made an appreciative "mmm" sound.

His heart flittering madly, Ritsuka broke away from the kiss and looked down at his hand as he withdrew Seimei from his slacks and held him in his palm. It was big, thick, but not frighteningly large. Was every inch of this man perfect? Fascinated, lust-dazed, he rolled his thumb across the tip, spreading the moisture beaded there across the surface and heard Seimei's breath hiss through his teeth.

Ritsuka paused and looked up, startled at the sound.

Seimei's eyes were shut and his lips were parted slightly in a pained-looking grimace.

"Don't...don't stop," he muttered. "Don't..."

Ritsuka felt a wonderfully novel mix of self-satisfaction and pure lust shoot through him. He rolled his thumb across the tip again, this time watching Seimei's face for any change in expression. Seimei's eyes squeezed tighter shut. His hands clenched hard on Ritsuka's hips.

Ritsuka wrapped his other hand around him and began an up and down motion, twisting both fists in opposite directions as he moved. Seimei began tearing the snaps open on Ritsuka's pants; Ritsuka lifted his hips to allow Seimei to slide off his pants. He expected the thong to go with it, but Seimei stared down at him through half-lidded eyes and then began fondling him through the paper thin material. Ritsuka's forehead fell to Seimei's shoulder as he moaned.

Seimei bit out a soft curse, touching Ritsuka with a single-minded lasciviousness. Those hands...large and masculine...cupping him and making Ritsuka feel like all his nerve endings were being pulled to the place between his legs and concentrated there.

"I can't see you in this thing," Seimei breathed. "Without wanting to..."

Ritsuka moaned again in answer. As far as he was concerned at the moment, whatever Seimei wanted to do to him was fine. He realized that it was probably smart to let Seimei know that but the words were jammed in his brain. Seimei was stroking him now and it was all Ritsuka could do to keep himself upright, never mind speaking.

His hands had stopped moving, he realized, and began with some difficulty to move them again, matching the rhythm of the strokes Seimei was using on him. Seimei's breath quickened again, more precum dripping out the end.

Ritsuka was entranced. Right in front of him was proof of Seimei's desire for him. He stroked with more confidence, steady and firm, watching what his hands were doing. He fought with all his might to focus on making Seimei feel good, instead of just basking in the pleasure Seimei was giving him. At the end of one stroke, Ritsuka passed his palm right over the tip and continued down the other side of the shaft. When he did, his palm was thoroughly slick and sticky. Seimei was….

Suddenly, Ritsuka heard a low, throaty groan in his ear. And then Seimei's hands were under his thighs, picking him up, carrying him again.

Seimei brought them near to the fireplace again, sitting down in one of single-person overstuffed chairs. This put Ritsuka right into his lap; his legs wound themselves naturally around Seimei's waist.

Seimei hooked his fingers into the waistband of Ritsuka's thong once again, following the strings forward toward Ritsuka's front.

"I know this is your first time with a client…" he was saying. His eyes were trained on Ritsuka's lower half. Even half-hidden under his eyelashes, Ritsuka could see that they were glowing with heat. "But I can't….I need to be close to you….here….soon…."

And then Seimei uncurled one of his fingers from Ritsuka's waistband, reaching with his freed hand into a side table drawer. He retrieved a small bottle of clear fluid from it. Seimei flipped open the bottle's plastic cap single-handedly and poured a small dollop of the stuff inside onto each of Ritsuka's thighs. After setting the bottle out of reach again, Seimei used both hands to spread the clear fluid up and down the insides of Ritsuka's thighs.

The sensations it sent up his legs were far powerful than the gesture appeared. Ritsuka leaned back and spread his knees apart, giving Seimei easier access and a much better view. Ritsuka saw his gaze travel up the smooth expanse of skin and linger on the prominent mound that was the front of his thong. He couldn't help but smile; he was beginning to feel wickedly pleased at the blatant arousal in Seimei's expression.

Seimei took one finger, still glistening faintly with the fluid, and traced it gently over the mound. It was far less contact than he'd used before on that area, but somehow the gesture was more intense this way, and Ritsuka shuddered.

Then Seimei ran his whole palm over Ritsuka, bottom to top. He was shifting his hips restlessly in the chair, as though he wanted to grind himself against Ritsuka's front.

"Let me…." said Seimei, huskily. He moved Ritsuka around in his lap, so that Ritsuka's back was against his chest and his knees were on either side of Seimei's. "Let me do this…here…."

The words came out like a plea. To Ritsuka, it sounded like Seimei was hoping that Ritsuka wouldn't refuse him. It was insane, really. Ritsuka was here _for_ Seimei…and nothing so far had felt anything but brilliant…

Ritsuka felt Seimei shift his hips underneath him once again. After that…something slid into place very neatly, like the edges of two jigsaw puzzle pieces coming together.

It was enchanting to see the girth of Seimei sticking up between his thighs, flush against his own arousal, which felt like it were ready to burst free of its cotton confines. Ritsuka felt hands grip his hips, and then Seimei was moving, slowly at first, thrusting himself against the material. Catching on, Ritsuka squeezed his legs together as tightly as they'd go, constricting Seimei between the slick flesh.

Seimei let out an audible noise, something halfway between a curse and a whimper, and began thrusting harder.

Keeping his thighs squeezed together, Ritsuka tried to match Seimei's movements, hoping to spur him on. When Seimei pushed forward, Ritsuka arched his back. The effect was that Ritsuka's bottom ground against Seimei's hips. It also had the unexpected benefit of giving more stimulation to Ritsuka's arousal. It slid back and forth against Seimei's with every thrust. Ritsuka looked down at himself and saw a circle of wetness spreading outward on the cotton of his thong.

He wanted to know if Seimei was in a similar state, but it was difficult to tell; he was already shiny and slick from the oil. It seemed to be gliding easier now, the sound of skin smacking damp skin egging Ritsuka on. He grabbed hold of Seimei's knees for better leverage and worked himself not faster, but harder, more precise. Seimei's breath was coming hotter against his ear, riffling his hair. The small gasps sent a series of shivers down his back.

He wanted to come so badly… he wanted Seimei to come…right now, all over his thighs.

At the end of one particularly hard downward thrust, Ritsuka heard Seimei make a sort of throaty growling sound. It was low and deep and so very masculine…Ritsuka felt shivers flow down his spine.

Seimei's hands clenched tightly into his hips, so hard that Ritsuka felt his nails digging in. The sharpness felt arousing, not painful. It was just like being touched, but in a more wild, possessive manner. Ritsuka could feel the muscles in Seimei's thighs going taut underneath him, Seimei's breaths coming out in long, shuddering gasps. And not a second later, Seimei's warm wetness spilling out between his legs.

There was something incredibly satisfying about the stickiness now coating Ritsuka's lower abdomen and upper thighs, but he still squirmed restlessly, his own need for release clawing at his stomach.

Seimei dropped his cheek to the back of Ritsuka's shoulder and tried audibly to catch his breath. His hands had dropped from Ritsuka's hips and were idly stroking his thighs.

Seimei's chest was rising and falling against Ritsuka's back. When Ritsuka could feel the movements easing a bit, Seimei's hands moved up to his sides, fingers trailing over his ribcage.

"The view is very nice from back here, I must say," Seimei murmured. Ritsuka knew he was smiling; it was evident in his voice, in the way that he sounded so languid and satisfied. "And yet…."

One hand crept around toward Ritsuka's belly button, and then even lower. It looked deliberate, the way that Seimei's fingers dragged themselves through the come, gathering some of it up before continuing on their path south. They slipped silently under the cotton of Ritsuka's thong, wrapping around his arousal for the first time, not pausing before beginning long, smooth strokes.

"I know that the front is quite worthy of my attention, too."

Ritsuka's fingers flexed into the skin beneath his hands. He lifted one hand to his mouth and bit into the base of his thumb, trying uselessly to stifle the moans. Was it okay for him to come too? Did Seimei want him to?

…It didn't matter. He could feel his orgasm building with alarming speed, and it would only take a few strokes more before—

Seimei pulled away, lifting Ritsuka again as he stood from the chair only to move them both onto the carpet. Ritsuka's back touched the floor gently as Seimei lowered him onto it and fitted himself on top, kissing Ritsuka's lips and drawing him close, like a lover would do.

Seimei was a natural lover, it was obvious; each touch persuasive and honeyed to perfection.

And Ritsuka was melting beneath the warm, sweet allure.

The warmth radiating from the fireplace felt like a liquid blanket. It was like Ritsuka and Seimei were wrapped up underneath it, miles and miles away from anything else in the world, concerned only with pleasure, and how best to achieve it. Seimei's hands were everywhere, it seemed. The sensitive curve of Ritsuka's lower back, the taut muscles of his thighs, the stretch of skin behind his knees….it wasn't where Ritsuka most wanted be touched, and it was frustrating, yes, but….it was still so good, somehow. The ache of it. The desire for more, and the faith that more would come. Ritsuka needed only to wait for it.

And waiting, it seemed, was proving to be an agonizingly delicious torture. Ritsuka hadn't engaged much in the art of foreplay and hadn't yet learned to appreciate its merits; Seimei was a grand master, though. His lips worked steadily along the curve of Ritsuka's jawline and climbed down to his ear, where he trailed the tip of his tongue along the rim with sinister ease. Ritsuka's breath caught in his throat, his fingers curling into Seimei's biceps. A soft chuckle in his ear, dark and satisfied, and Seimei continued to work his way downward.

Ritsuka didn't know what to expect when Seimei's mouth reached his chest, but the sensation of Seimei's tongue circling a nipple and the sudden gentle graze of teeth made him jerk and cry out. The sensation sent a sharp throb directly between his thighs.

There was another of those dark, satisfied chuckles. Ritsuka forced his eyes open and found that Seimei was looking up at him, his lips still brushing against Ritsuka's nipple. Seimei was wearing a smile that had more in common with a grin than a smirk. He held Ritsuka's gaze, never wavering in the eye contact, while his tongue slipped forward from his curved lips. The very tip swept Ritsuka's nipple again. Seimei's expression made it very, very clear that he knew exactly what Ritsuka was going through inside. And that he savored every bit of the knowledge.

An idea began forming in Ritsuka's head, mixed up and swirled into his fog of lust. Seimei got off on making others feel good. He genuinely enjoyed being the giver….and oh, that was such an arousing thought that Ritsuka nearly gasped aloud.

Not one to do something by halves, it seemed, Seimei toyed at the other nipple – using his fingers to tease it into hardness, dragging his nail delicately over the taut bud, while his mouth continued its thrilling assault on the first.

With this realization burning in the back of his mind, Ritsuka felt the rest of his uneasiness melt into oblivion. If this is what Seimei wanted, Ritsuka was going to let him have it, and he was going to enjoy the surrender.

Emboldened, his slid his fingers into Seimei's hair and arched into it, the sensations created by each pull of Seimei's lips drawing a series of barely controlled gasps, moans, and low, drawn out growls.

Seimei's hands roamed softly, and Ritsuka was sure he was getting spoiled for that touch, and how insanely perfect it felt against his skin.

Ritsuka felt Seimei's fingers slide underneath his waistband again. But this time, Seimei didn't take them away before pulling the thong down past Ritsuka's hipbones and then dragging it down his thighs, and his calves, and finally his feet. Seimei tossed the thong carelessly aside.

And then….oh, then Ritsuka was treated to the feeling of soft lips sucking greedily at the space where his thigh became his stomach. The feeling of teeth came shortly after, and, wildly, Ritsuka hoped there would be a mark there when Seimei pulled away. Something dark red and stark against his skin. Something Ritsuka could see later and remember just how _good_ sex could be.

Seimei trapped the base of Ritsuka's arousal between the triangle formed between his thumbs and forefingers and pressed inward and up into his pelvis, encouraging even more bloodflow to the area as he nipped at his inner thighs. In total disbelief it were possible, Ritsuka felt himself swell further, the throbbing now a steady hum. For a moment Seimei's lips were inching closer, closer... Ritsuka turned his head to the side, his eyes squinched closed, biting into his lip, and he was not sure but almost positive he was about to feel the encompassing heat of Seimei's mouth around his full arousal.

But Seimei moved upward again, and Ritsuka was distracted by the slow, deep penetration of Seimei's tongue against his.

Suddenly Ritsuka heard himself make a sound that would have been embarrassing if he'd had the presence of mind to really consider it. The sound was muffled by Seimei's mouth, still purposefully moving against Ritsuka's own.

And what prompted the sound….Seimei was lying fully on top of him again. And Ritsuka could feel that even though Seimei had gone once already tonight, he was capable of more.

Seimei broke away just far enough to regain use of his lips, his breath hovering just over Ritsuka's mouth. "You're eager for more."

It wasn't a question, but Ritsuka nodded, panting almost wildly, his fingers still curled into the silkened strands of Seimei's hair.

Seimei sucked Ritsuka's lower lip between his own and ran his tongue along it. Ritsuka writhed, the same noise escaping him.

Seimei pulled back again. He wasn't wearing a smile now….instead, his expression was focused, eyes blazing with intensity.

"So am I," he murmured. The words sounded like a promise to Ritsuka.

Seimei's palm ran flat and smooth over the space between Ritsuka's legs, and Ritsuka had to suddenly cry, "Stop!"

Seimei paused, looking into his eyes and tilting his head questioningly.

"I…I can't….if you do that, I'll…." Ritsuka muttered, incoherently.

Understanding dawning in his expression, Seimei pulled his hand away. "I see…." he said. His eyes glowed with an even brighter fire now.

He reached again into the side table drawer where earlier he had produced the bottle of lube, but this time he pulled from in a small packet and easily torn it open between swift, able fingers.

Ritsuka watched through half-lidded eyes as he rolled the protective sheath over himself and repositioned himself between Ritsuka's thighs.

Ritsuka aided him, vaguely aware of what a wanton rentboy he must look like right now, hitching his legs up and around Seimei's waist. The position trapped his arousal between his own stomach and Seimei's. Seimei was supporting himself on his hands, one on either side of Ritsuka's head.

One of the logs in the fireplace crackled softly behind them, splitting neatly in two and scattering embers into the grate below.

And then, in that hidden place below, Ritsuka felt Seimei nudge him firmly.

He inhaled at the contact and unconsciously held his breath as Seimei eased into him. He was gentle going in, the joining of their bodies fulfilling and not at all intrusive.

Seimei froze above him, going completely still. His breathing was suddenly ragged and deep. It sounded like he was near the point of pain.

"Don't move," he breathed out, harshly.

Ritsuka's heart rate shot up. Was something wrong? Had he done something? Was Seimei disappointed?

"Why?" he asked, almost afraid to know. "What's the matter?"

Seimei breathed in deeply before replying.

"Small…." he said. It sounded like every word was a monumental effort for him. "You're so small…"

Another instant of panic, and then Ritsuka felt it slipping away. Seimei wasn't in pain; the tight heat, Ritsuka was sure, was gripping him in nearly intolerable _pleasure_.

Feeling suddenly delighted beyond rationality, Ritsuka threaded his fingers back into Seimei's hair, feeling his own dark chuckle slip nearly whisper quiet past his lips. Seimei moaned softly, an almost-growl, and pressed his lips to Ritsuka's temple as he sunk in the rest of the way, up to the hilt of his erection.

Ritsuka couldn't stop himself from rolling his hips. He wanted Seimei as deep inside as possible. He wanted him to feel as good as he possibly could.

"It's good…" Seimei whispered against his skin. "It's so good…."

He set his lips to Ritsuka's again, barely touching, just close enough to lap at Ritsuka's mouth with his tongue. Enough to share his breath.

This was more like it... this was better... this was what Ritsuka had wanted, to be full and stretched and filled with Seimei. The smell of the fire mixed with the scent and taste of his beautiful stranger was an intoxicating concoction. He drew his legs tighter into Seimei's hips when he felt him retracting, easing back out, but then he was pushing forward again, slowly, so slowly, and Ritsuka's head fell back as the deep sensations blossomed through every fiber of his being.

They rocked together that way, slowly, intensely, right there on the floor. In a haze, Ritsuka saw a bead of sweat roll down the dip between Seimei's collarbones. The knowledge was just on the edge of his perception, and he leaned forward, tilting his head, to draw the bead into his mouth with the very tip of his tongue.

One of Seimei's hands found their way to the underside of Ritsuka's knee. Seimei held him there, hiking his thigh up higher by a fraction, before sinking down into him again. It was the deepest Seimei had yet penetrated, and there was SOMETHING in there that just….suddenly sparked…when Seimei thrust.

He cried out and felt a surge of precome lurch from himself. Seimei repeated the movement and Ritsuka clamped his hands over his mouth, horrified with himself for being unable to stop. The pleasure was blinding in its intensity, and Seimei kept going, hitting that spot a third time, a fourth, and then reached up and pulled Ritsuka's hands away from his mouth.

Ritsuka managed to look up at him, his eyelashes fluttering wildly to stay open.

"Don't..." Seimei panted, his voice so raspy and deep it only doubled Ritsuka's need to come. "I want...to hear... hear you." He moved a hand down to cradle Ritsuka's hips and thrust in again, harder this time, and Ritsuka's cry filled the room.

Seimei's forehead dropped to Ritsuka's shoulder. He was panting even harder now. "Yes….yes….shout for me….let me hear….hear you whine…."

Ritsuka arched his back, the movement coinciding deliciously with another of Seimei's thrusts. The added pressure made that something inside of him spark all the brighter. He whimpered and clung to Seimei's chest. There was no way Ritsuka could handle this for long….any second now, he was going to…..

"I..." He managed, slightly started by the desperation in his voice. "I need to..."

"Yes, say it..." said Seimei, his own breaths now coming out with some voice; just small sounds of, "mm, mm, mm."

"Come." Ritsuka moved more wantonly against Seimei, the pressure so tight he thought he'd burst. "I need to... come!"

Seimei adjusted his thrust just slightly, creating a bit more friction against Ritsuka's arousal. Ritsuka, feeling the slickness of his own desires as Seimei's stomach brushed over him brought him to the peak, and as Seimei pulled out (almost all the way), Ritsuka felt himself slowly tipping over the edge, like the moments spent in gravityless space on a rollercoaster about to plunge down an enormous drop.

Seimei slammed into him, the hardest thrust yet, and Ritsuka was shoved down the slope, coming so hard his ears were ringing with his own cries. God, there was so much of it. Ritsuka almost thought it wouldn't stop.

Seimei bit down on his shoulder, slowing his thrusts and pulling back a bit in order to stare down at him. Seimei's eyes raked over Ritsuka's limp, exhausted, sated form with a savage pleasure. His gaze lingered on the pool of wetness splattered over Ritsuka's stomach and chest.

Then, as if coming to a decision, Seimei took Ritsuka's legs and hitched them up over his shoulders, so that Ritsuka was bent almost in half.

And then Seimei resumed his deep, hard rhythm in earnest. Ritsuka trembled and shook under the onslaught, having only enough strength left to let it happen.

In this position, with his mind clearer post-orgasm, Ritsuka was able to savor Seimei's every push and pull. It was just as good, and in some ways better. Now, he could focus on the eroticism in Seimei's eyes…the naked hunger belied by his tapered hips….

And he realized he wanted this to end differently. He wanted Seimei to know how much Ritsuka wanted him to enjoy himself.

He began to struggle beneath Seimei's oppressive strength, and Seimei immediately fell still, panting loudly.

"Let me," said Ritsuka, wriggling out of Seimei's hold.

With the ease of two people who were long familiar with each other's motives, Seimei sat up as Ritsuka fitted himself into Seimei's lap and eased Seimei inside again. Seimei's hands clamped around his hips as Ritsuka began to move.

Seimei leaned back against the nearest couch, letting his head drop softly against the cushions. He let out a long, low, gratified sigh and Ritsuka felt something in his stomach flutter deliciously. Putting his hands on Seimei's shoulders for leverage, Ritsuka lifted himself up and sunk back down, hoping to elicit more of those sounds.

Seimei's eyes drifted closed. Ritsuka thought he looked like a man who had either found himself inside his own personal heaven…or was having the most amazing sex.

Maybe for Seimei, those were one in the same.

Some corner of his mind called up a moment earlier that night, when he had brushed his hips against Kio's during their street dance and Kio's breath had caught. Ritsuka used that move now, rolling his hips forward and circling against Seimei's hardness.

Seimei convulsed under him, exhaling sharply. "Are you…." He panted. "Very sure…this is your first time with a client?"

Ritsuka found himself giggling darkly. "I'm positive." He said, then rolled his hips again.

Seimei convulsed beneath him again, his moan louder this time, and Ritsuka decided it was the most amazing sound in the world. He began moving in an uninterrupted beat. He kept his hands on Seimei's shoulders and pressed his torso closer, keeping the rhythm sure and strong, just like his dancing.

And Seimei completely lost his head, hips jerking, cries and curses spilling out of him like the finale of fireworks at the end of a show.

Ritsuka wanted to drive him to the edge and push him over it. It was intoxicating, doing this. Seimei was so undeniably sexy and here was Ritsuka…pushing him into incoherent, fevered pleasure.

"Please, Seimei…" Ritsuka urged, unsure of where his boldness was coming. "Please…." He rolled his hips in the same sure, strong rhythm but with a greater intensity. Ritsuka wanted to make Seimei lose himself….he needed to.

Seimei's fingers dug into his hips, almost painful, but good... so, SO good. Ritsuka heard him grunt, teeth clenched, and then Ritsuka felt the first of many warm spasms, deep inside himself. During the intense, momentous moments that followed, Ritsuka felt the pulses continue – each one accompanied by another pleasured groan from Seimei. Eventually he stilled, breathing settling down….but together they remained, still joined and making no moves to part.

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><p>It was little after four in the morning when Seimei drove him back to The Street. Ritsuka was beginning to feel buzzed; sleepy from the hour and giddy from their activities.<p>

He couldn't STOP looking at Seimei now, a complete 180 from the car ride to the penthouse. He was such a gentleman, exactly as Ritsuka had imagined all this time. He hadn't rushed to get Ritsuka back home, but rather took time coming down from his high and basked in the afterglow with a few more chocolates and idle conversation by the fire. He'd given Ritsuka a glass of water this time and helped him put his clothes back on. When he helped Ritsuka back into the car, he melted against the seat and took to staring at his Beautiful Stranger.

Seimei was driving one-handed, using the other to prop up his chin. A little smile would play across his mouth every now and again. Ritsuka thought he looked very pleased…very contented with the night. And the thought made a little bubble of happiness rise up in his chest. He hadn't screwed anything up. He had done well. His first night, and he had done well.

"I didn't miss a button, did I?" Seimei murmured, cutting his eyes teasingly toward Ritsuka's.

Ritsuka grinned shyly, feeling a hundred times more comfortable than he had at the beginning of the evening. "No….your buttons are alright."

"Ah, I see….it must be that I have some chocolate in my hair, then. Am I right?"

Ritsuka laughed at that. "No…your hair is alright too, Seimei."

Funny how the name just rolled off his tongue. Funny how it was so easy and natural to say.

Funny how everything was funny right now. How he was biting his lip to keep from laughing and he wasn't sure why. Seimei was funny, and Ritsuka decided he very much liked his gently teasing manner. Seimei was smiling again and Ritsuka covered his mouth and chuckled into it.

"What's funny?" asked Seimei.

"The chocolate," said Ritsuka, laughing as he spoke. "It's on your ear."

Confusion passed briefly over Seimei's face, and then he laughed loudly and wiped it away.

They both knew why it was there, after all; not Seimei's fault. Besides idly chatting during their recovery for the night, Ritsuka had sidled back into Seimei's lap to nibble his ear and kiss his neck.

All too soon, they were pulling up to the curb on The Street. Ritsuka noticed that hardly any boys were left outside….most of them were probably with clients, or else already finished and returned home. In fact, the only ones Ritsuka could see were Youji, Natsuo, and Kio. They were lined up on the sidewalk, rubbing their arms from the chill and talking amongst themselves. Seimei slowed to a stop in front of them, setting the Rolls into park and turning to Ritsuka with another teasing smirk.

"Hey, he's back!" Ritsuka heard Youji shout from outside. He knew he was supposed to get out of the car now but it felt like the last thing he wanted to do.

"I imagine they'll all want to hear about your first time," Seimei murmured. "I do hope it wasn't terrible for you."

Ritsuka laughed, playing along. "I've had worse."

"Oh? I thought Soubi was the only other."

"Yeah," said Ritsuka, fixing Seimei with a pointed, joking stare. "Just him."

Seimei burst into refined laughter at that. "I see."

"Ritsuka! Ritsuka! Ritsuka!"

Natsuo was bouncing outside the window, his hands clasped in front of him eagerly.

Kio shoved him out of the way and started forward, apparently to collect Ritsuka from the car.

"I'd better go," he said quickly, suddenly overwhelmed with the desire to keep Kio from flirting with Seimei again. "Sleep well."

"You too," Seimei said, smiling and watching as Kio wrenched the passenger door open.

Ritsuka did his best to climb out gracefully but his legs…..just didn't seem to work right. Everything from the waist down felt like warm, exhausted goo, and he stumbled as he exited the car. Luckily, Kio had fast reflexes and caught him before he toppled over. Ritsuka burst into more laughter.

"Oi! Seimei!" Kio shouted, staring at Ritsuka in concern. "What did you DO to him?"

A deep chuckle accompanied the sound of the engine revving twice. Ritsuka, still being necessarily supported, looked up from Kio's arms just in time to see the Rolls peel smoothly away.

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><p><strong>Hope you all enjoyed it - please review! Each one means so much to us. :) See you next chapter!<strong>


	7. Chapter 7

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

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><p><strong>Author's Notes:<strong>

**Magic: Thank you to everyone who has read, reviewed, and favorited this fic. We are still going strong with it! This chapter is hopefully a bit more manageable...the last one was very long, we realize. Also, BratChild3 would like to tell A Single Fragile Rose that we can't tell you yet what pairings this story will ultimately entail but we're happy that you're rooting for some. :)**

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><p>After Seimei's car was out of sight, Kio helped Ritsuka into the house, struggling with Ritsuka's uncooperative form. Youji and Natsuo followed them, chattering away about the condition Ritsuka was in and making what sounded like very lewd comments. Ritsuka's head was too buzzed and his body too unsteady for him to really make out what they were saying.<p>

Once they made it past the doors, Ritsuka felt more than saw a tall, blond form standing just inside. It was as if Soubi were WAITING for their return.

This too was hilariously funny for some reason. Soubi. Waiting to hear about Ritsuka's night of prostitution. Hahaha, Ritsuka thought, doubling over with laughter.

"Ritsuka, come on," Kio huffed, hefting him a bit higher in his grasp. "You're seriously scaring me here. Pull yourself together."

Ritsuka only laughed harder. Kio was such a mother hen.

"Is he drunk?" Asked Soubi.

"Yeah," said Youji. "Off Seimei's essence 'o love."

Now Natsuo was laughing, and it made Ritsuka laugh even more. Soubi leaned closer, peering with those strange violet eyes at Ritsuka's pupils.

"I'm not DRUNK," said Ritsuka, a little too loudly. It made him sound like a liar, and that was also funny. He was just HAPPY, that's all. Happy and drowsy and completely, wonderfully, blissfully SPENT. He had forgotten what it felt like to laugh.

"Hmmm." Soubi said, sounding doubtful. "Seimei Aoyagi?"

Youji rolled his eyes. "How many clients named Seimei do we HAVE, Soubi?"

Soubi ignored him, choosing instead to address Kio. "And Ritsuka has been out with him the entire night?"

"Yeah…" said Kio, finally managing to stand Ritsuka upright. Ritsuka still felt a little gooey but it felt nice to be up on his own two feet. At least until he made it into bed. Lovely, soft, bed with blankets…and pillows…and warmth….

"He paid double for him, actually." Kio went on. "So look out for that when his payment comes in."

Soubi pulled a cigarette carton out of his pants pocket, shaking it open briskly. Was it Ritsuka's imagination, or had his hands shaken?

"Lock your KNEES, Ritsuka!" Kio shouted in his ear, startling him into complying. "For a scrawny little runt, you sure are a chore to hold up."

Natsuo smacked him upside the head, knocking his glasses askew. "You whine too much."

Youji nodded. "Yeah, and it's really REALLY annoying me."

"Me annoying?" Kio yanked off his glasses and began brandishing them, his mouth open in hostility.

Calmly, Soubi slipped a cigarette between his lips and held it there. He took the glasses and set them gently back onto Kio's face. This had the desired effect of halting him pre-yell, but Youji snorted his very obvious disgust.

"You boys are tired," said Soubi. He adjusted the frames on Kio's nose and then pulled back. "Get some sleep, and don't kill each other on the way. Ritsuka, I need to see you for a moment in my office."

Youji and Natsuo grumbled about Soubi being a party-pooper…muttering to each other as they walked off toward the bedrooms, hand in hand. Ritsuka took a moment to smile at them, feeling generally very pleased with the way of the world right now. He saw Kio stand on his tiptoes and kiss Soubi's cheek before he turned away and left as well.

Then it was just Soubi and Ritsuka in the foyer of the house. Soubi gestured for Ritsuka to follow him, waving a hand in the direction of his office, cigarette burning dully between his fingers. Ritsuka trailed after him, wondering vaguely what this was all about. More than that, though, he wondered when he could go to sleep. The sun was rising outside and Ritsuka hadn't slept in such a long time….

"Ritsuka…" Soubi began, waiting for Ritsuka to come inside before closing the office door behind them both. "It's routine for me to check up on my new boys after they're out with a client for the first time. Tell me…how did your first sale go?"

The word _sale_bounced around oddly in Ritsuka's head. It seemed wrong; he hadn't felt bought by Seimei at all. It helped that Seimei hadn't handed him any money afterward. Apparently he and Soubi had an electronic payment system setup.

And what was he supposed to say to that anyway? Instinctively, Ritsuka felt it would be in poor choice to divulge to his boss-his _pimp_, really-that he now realizes why some people become addicted to sex. Soubi was already looking suspicious and perhaps even a bit apprehensive beneath the frozen mask he usually wore.

"It wasn't as bad as I imagined it would be," he said, finally. Each word was chosen carefully, and he watched Soubi's face for any change that indicated he'd said the wrong thing. "I didn't realize people as clean and sophisticated as Seimei Aoyagi paid for this sort of thing."

"Hmmm." Soubi murmured. He took a long drag from his cigarette. "Well…they do, yes. But….Aoyagi is a bit of a special case. It wouldn't do to expect all our clients to fit his particular…mold."

For the first time in hours, a bit of unhappiness crept into Ritsuka. He hadn't really been considering other clients. And certainly not….unsavory ones.

The only thing he could think of in reply was, "oh."

"He was appropriate with you, I assume?"

Ritsuka had no idea what that meant. If by "appropriate," Soubi meant "fantastically sexy" then….hell yes.

"He was nice to me, if that's what you mean…" Ritsuka ventured. Why did Soubi care, anyway?

"Mmm," Soubi said, thoughtfully. "Yes. Mr. Aoyagi is rather... polite. A bit charming as well." He nodded, as if agreeing with himself, and blow out a long, slow stream of smoke.

Seimei was much more than a "bit" charming, but he didnt feel THAT would be appropriate to say. Was Soubi feeling THREATENED? Was it possible he DID have feelings for Ritsuka that outweighed that of the other boys?

Ritsuka inwardly shook out those thoughts. No, of course not. Maybe this all really was routine. He nodded and decided to agree. "Yeah. A bit."

Soubi didn't meet Ritsuka's eyes as he replied. He only stubbed out the remainder of his cigarette on a nearby ashtray, grinding it into the ashes. "It's important for all my boys to keep track of the clients they see….I'll be expecting to hear if Mr. Aoyagi comes calling for you again."

"Sure," said Ritsuka, although something inside him was just ITCHING to tell Soubi it was none of his damn business. Wasn't it enough that Ritsuka was bringing in money for him? What did it matter who it was? And what about random, anonymous clients, like that sketchy guy Natsuo and Youji enticed over from across the street? What were they supposed to do, ask for ID and write everyone's name down?

But he didn't voice any of this. Youji was a smartmouth and it was blatantly obvious that Soubi disliked him, if not downright hated him.

"Very good," Soubi said, briskly. "Now…there's something else I wanted to discuss with you."

He leaned to his right and slid open one of the desk drawers, fishing around in it until he muttered a faint, "ah ha."

When he righted himself, Ritsuka saw one of the most shocking undergarments he'd ever seen dangling from Soubi's fingers.

It was a thong – that much was obvious from first glance. The strings were nearly as narrow as floss, joined together with tiny jewels. Ritsuka didn't know whether the crystals were real diamonds or not but if they WERE real….this was also the most EXPENSIVE undergarment he'd ever seen.

The crotch was nothing more than many jewels sewn together….white and blue and green and yellow…assembled in the shape of a peacock's feathers. Taken together, they left very, very little to the imagination.

"I wanted to give this to you," Soubi drawled. He sounded as if this kind of gift were entirely normal. Like he was handing over a pair of cufflinks or something. He held the thong out toward Ritsuka. "I hope you'll wear it for me one day."

Ritsuka stared at it, the light from the dim desk lamp glinting off its majestic jewels. He then looked up at Soubi, at the satisfied smirk he was wearing, and he realized that Soubi must be mistaking his horror for shocked flattery.

Coming back to himself, he reached out and slowly retrieved it from the long, steady fingers, and realized for the first time that Soubi wasn't as charming as he'd originally imagined. Soubi was really, seriously freaking creepy.

Soubi seemed to pause for a bit, as if expecting Ritsuka to respond. When Ritsuka gave no answer, he filled the silence with, "Well then….it's very late and I think you ought to go and get some rest with the others. I'm sure you're exhausted." Then he stood and opened the office door – a very clear dismissal.

Ritsuka nodded and said the perfunctory goodbyes. Slipping out the door, he had barely closed the door and turned around when he came face to face with Kio. They both started at the sight of each other, then Kio laughed.

"Ritsuka! I was just… I was… I needed to…"

Ritsuka pressed the peacock thong into his hand and patted it. "Don't worry. He's all yours."

Without waiting for a reply he slipped down the hall and into his room. As he slipped into bed, he realized that much of his earlier dopey, blissful satisfaction with the night had vanished.

In its place was the stark realization that….yeah. Soubi Agatsuma really was….a creep.

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><p>It felt as if he'd only just closed his eyes and Ritsuka was already being awoken by the bright glare of sun against his eyelids and the sensation of his blankets being dragged away. He made a half-hearted attempt at grabbing them back up to himself, but missed. Then there was cool air on his stomach as the hem of his shirt was pulled upwards, and slender fingers sliding up his chest.<p>

He swatted it like a spider and opened his eyes. Natsuo was throwing his covers to the ground, and Youji was leaning into his face, smiling predatorily. It was his hand crushed beneath Ritsuka's, his index finger a mere whisper from his nipple.

"Morning, sexy." Said Youji.

"And just what the HELL do you think you're doing?" Ritsuka asked nastily. He had never been a morning person, and he had never been the sort of person who was okay with private bits of his body being stimulated without invitation.

"They're just having a little fun."

Ritsuka looked around for the voice and spotted Kio snapping his usual silver hoop earrings into his lobes.

"Kio, you're just going to let them have their way with me?"

Kio shrugged and reached for a bottle of gel. "I'm feeling a teensy weensy bit spiteful after you emerged from Soubi's office with a fancy thong in your hand."

"But I didn't ASK for that!" Ritsuka protested, pushing away Youji's roving hands and snatching his covers back from the floor. "And I gave it to you anyway!"

Natsuo made a sound halfway between a giggle and a disapproving tut. "You know, Ritsuka…" he began. "Kio really has been hot for Soubi for like….ever. So….it doesn't matter how innocent you are. If you walk out of Soubi's office with underwear in your hands….he's going to be a bit of a bitch about it."

Kio paused in earring-snapping and threw a hairbrush at Natsuo – who ducked just in the nick of the time.

Youji smiled proudly. "That's my boy. Now...Ritsuka, we have a proposition for you. And no, this one doesn't involve molestation."

Ritsuka could feel his eyes narrowing. "And what is this 'proposition'?"

"We want to take you out to breakfast. You know….celebrate your first night whoring." Youji said all this with a bright, pleased smile. "We'll even pay."

The thought of getting out of bed wasn't all that appealing to him, but he WAS hungry. Plus, if Kio was going then maybe he'd eventually stop feeling titchy. He was the only one Ritsuka truly felt was a friend at this point and he wanted to keep it that way.

"Okay," he said. "Let me get dressed." When neither of them budged and both of them smirked, he shouted, "IN PRIVATE."

Youji and Natsuo chuckled in unison.

"Fine, fine," said Youji. "We'll let you have your privacy. For now."

Grinning devilishly, he and Natsuo left. Kio snapped in the last of his earrings and followed them out. Ritsuka hoped his silence wasn't indicative of more bad feelings.

An hour later, the four of them were seated inside a large, plush booth. Four cups of hot coffee were already on the table, steaming pleasantly. Ritsuka gulped his down as soon as it was cool enough.

"I'm getting the waffles." Youji pronounced, setting down his menu firmly. "Maybe two orders. God, I'm starving."

"You had a busy night," said Natsuo. "They must have put aphrodisiacs in the tap or something. The whole city was horny last night. Hmm... I want waffles too, and orange juice."

"How many clients did you have?" asked Ritsuka, perplexed. He had assumed that they all only had one client a night. MAYBE two if the first one was a quick BJ or something.

"Four." Youji answered, stretching his arms and yawning hugely. "And the last one had me over a table for an hour. The guy must not have gotten laid in months. My back is killing me."

Ritsuka's eyes widened. "Natsuo? How many did you have?"

"Same. Four. But mine weren't too bad. One even bought me dinner. Heh."

Ritsuka wasn't really sure if he was more surprised or relieved to see Youji's eyes narrow and slice over to Natsuo.

"Hey, who gave you permission to date your clients?" He asked, bitingly.

"My stomach," said Natsuo. He didn't seem put out by Youji's evident jealousy at all. "I wanted a milkshake."

"And I want you to do your job without bonding with the clients over frozen treats." Youji countered.

Natsuo gave Youji a decidedly bedroom-ish smile. "How about I give you a treat of your own later?"

Youji made a "hmph" sound. "You'd better. And next time, you're eating dinner BEFORE work."

"Yes, dear." said Natsuo with another smile. Youji's anger seemed to ebb after that – he laughed ruefully.

To Ritsuka's left, Kio rolled his eyes. "If all is again well in paradise, how about we give Ritsuka a chance to tell us about his night?"

"How about we order first before I EAT Ritsuka," said Youji. "Where is that lazy waitress?"

Kio stood and snapped his fingers at the woman, who was hanging out in the corner chatting to a fellow employee. She tottered over cheerfully and pulled a pen and notepad from her blue-lace apron.

Ritsuka ordered waffles too, at the insistence of Youji and Natsuo, but his was a plate balanced with sunny side up eggs and a cup of milk.

Kio got some sort of heart-healthy whole-wheat toast, egg-whites-only, fresh fruit combo.

"It's not like I can afford to be a diabetic at 30." he said defensively, after Natsuo snickered at his order.

"You and your diets, Kio." Said Youji. "Alright…now we can talk about Ritsuka's night." He grinned at Ritsuka and pinned him under his gaze. "Tell us all about your evening with Sexy Seimei Aoyagi."

Ritsuka felt his stomach dip, and he looked down at his breakfast. Tell them about Seimei? Where in the world was he supposed to start?

"Ritsuka, are you blushing?" said Natsuo. "He is! He's blushing!"

"That's all very cute and everything," said Youji, unconvincingly. "but we're hookers, okay? We're dirty whores. There's NOTHING you did last night that we haven't already, okay?"

Ritsuka felt himself blush deeper, and then Kio's hand was on his back.

"Okay, ease up on him a little."

"Looks like big brother's back," said Youji. "How annoying."

"Hush, Youji." said Kio firmly. "It was his first night. We all know that you weren't always so comfortable with this profession, especially on your first night."

That shut him up.

It gave Ritsuka the courage to at least formulate a reply. "It went okay…" he ventured. "Seimei was nice to me."

Natsuo and Youji glanced at each other.

"Nice to you," Youji repeated.

"Well... yeah. I mean... he's really...he held open the door for me and everything."

Natsuo and Kio sighed together.

"I love that," said Kio, Natsuo nodding enthusiastically.

"I hate that," said Youji. "I karate chopped his hand when he tried that on me. He stopped after that."

"I bet Seimei laughed when you did that," Kio said wryly.

"Yep," laughed Youji. "And then told me he got the message loud and clear."

Kio laughed with him. "Yeah…that's Seimei."

Ritsuka felt himself shrink back into the booth. Did ALL of them know Seimei better than Ritsuka himself did?

"You guys….have all been with him?" Ritsuka asked. He was afraid of the answer but he had to know.

There was a collective chorus of "yep" around the table, and Ritsuka put his hands between his knees to keep them steady.

"How often do you go with him?" He asked.

"As often as he wants us," said Youji.

"There isn't really any rhyme or reason to who he takes on any given night." Kio ripped a creamer open with his teeth and poured it into his coffee.

"I've been with him eighteen times," said Natsuo.

Kio nodded. "I'm up to sixteen. I think most of us are around that range. Well, he does only circulate about half of Soubi's boys. He doesn't like the buff, manly types."

"I think I'm the roughest, boyish one he takes," said Youji.

Ritsuka swallowed back bile. "And...how many times have you-?"

"Let him fuck me?" Youji supplied. "Thirty-two."

Ritsuka's heart pounded. Thirty-two times. Thirty-TWO. It was worse than he thought. And clearly Seimei had some kind of special thing with Youji if he took him so often despite him being "rough" and "boyish."

Ritsuka stared at the table, not knowing what to say.

"Here we are, guys!" the waitress chirped, coming up to their table with four plates laden in her arms. She passed around the orders, refilled their mugs with coffee, and strolled merrily away again.

"Hey…." Said Kio, obviously noticing Ritsuka's mood. "It's not like he won't be taking you again, Ritsuka. He doesn't play favorites. He never goes for the same boy twice in a row, but….I'm sure he'll be asking for you again sometime. Pretty soon, you'll have been with him as many times as we have."

This was only a small comfort….but Ritsuka knew Kio was trying to help him, so he nodded and started in on his waffles and eggs.

Across the table, Youji was stuffing a whole waffle into his mouth at once.

Kio reached over and poked his stomach with the tines of his fork. "I don't know where you put it." He muttered. "Everything on you is thin as a bean pole."

Natsuo smiled, propping his elbows up on the table and resting his chin in his palms. "Not EVERYTHING…."

"Hm. That's true," said Kio, and Ritsuka was temporarily freaked out that he knew that with such utter certainty. "But Youji's anatomy is hardly appropriate breakfast conversation. Ritsuka, did he take you in the hot tub?"

Ritsuka looked up. He didn't know Seimei had a hot tub, but he'd be damned if he was going to let them know that. "No, he had a fire going in the sitting room."

There were ooo's and ohhh's of approval, and Ritsuka felt his confidence rise a little.

"He had some kind of classical music going. It was soft. I couldn't hear it that well over, well... the noises."

Laughter, and Ritsuka was smiling again. He took a big gulp of his milk as Kio asked him for details.

"We talked about paintings for a while. He said he wanted me to draw him sometime. I guess he DOES want to see me again." He allowed himself a moment to treasure that revelation, then went on. "He gave me wine and a massage. He's... he's really good with his hands."

Natsuo sighed again. "He is, isn't he? I think he's taken a class or something and just won't tell any of us. There's SOMETHING behind that skill."

Youji snorted. "Seimei's just sexy, that's all. You don't need a class for that."

Ritsuka nodded. "Yeah…he is. And he's really polite. I spilled some wine on his carpet and he didn't even get mad about it. Just cleaned it up for me like it was nothing."

"I have to admit he's way better about that sort of thing than Soubi," said Kio. He paused to slip a piece of toast into his mouth. "I once came on a pair of Soubi's Italian slacks and he threw me buck naked out of the office."

Ritsuka choked on his waffle and laughed with the other two. Kio swallowed and went on.

"But then there was this once at Seimei's when I broke this really expensive, one of a kind statue.. oh my god, I FREAKED out. But Seimei cleaned it up and laughed. Go figure. I guess he's just an extremely forgiving guy."

"Or he doesn't give a shit about any of his expensive material possessions," said Natsuo.

Privately, Ritsuka had a feeling Natsuo was the one closer to the truth. He didn't know HOW he knew that but….it definitely felt like Seimei really wasn't very invested in the luxuries he had.

"Either way…" said Youji. "The guy sure can fuck, can't he?"

Ritsuka tried not to let his negative emotions about that statement get the better of him, and he mostly succeeded. In an effort to distract himself from them, he made himself respond.

"Yeah….I didn't have a clue what I was supposed to do or what he wanted but…somehow he made it good. Really good, actually."

Youji grinned. "Where did he fuck you? In the sitting room?"

"Yeah…" Ritsuka said, blushing. "In front of the fire."

Kio let out a low whistle. "Yeah, you really got lucky having him as your first, Ritsuka."

"Did he do that thing where – " Youji began eagerly, but Kio cut him off.

"Come on, come on….I'm sure Ritsuka doesn't want to tell you every detail of it, Youji, you pervert."

He didn't really, but part of him wanted to brag. Part of him wanted to show them up and pretend he was way more special than any of them. "I will say one thing."

They all leaned in closer, eyes bright and eager. Ritsuka glanced at each one of them and grinned. "He came twice."

"Boo ya!" Youji and Natsuo high-fived each other.

"My sweet little brother is a dirty, dirty whore," said Kio, and he sounded proud.

"But Ritsuka, did you come too?" asked Youji. "Because that's important."

Natsuo rolled his eyes. "Of course he did. This is SEIMEI we're talking about here."

"I know that!" Snapped Youji. "But maybe he was nervous. Sometimes you can't even get hard when you're nervous."

Ritsuka wondered vaguely how he knew that because he was sure Youji had never been nervous a day in his life. Perhaps Natsuo was their first time together, or even some of the clients might have been. Either way… "Yeah, I did." He said, bravely. "I… I didn't know if I was supposed to or not. But in the end I couldn't stop it from happening. He seemed okay with it."

Natsuo smiled hard. "Ritsuka….I'm sure he was more than okay with it. Seimei really gets off on his partners feeling good. I've never heard any of the boys say that he didn't show them a good time."

Once Ritsuka had shared his little detail, he seemed unable to stop. "And he didn't just take me straight back after we were done. We shared some chocolates and drank some more and talked….he's really interesting. He told me about some of the paintings he has and he knows a lot about wine…he even taught me the difference between champagne and regular white sparkling. And he also –"

"Uh oh…." murmured Kio, interrupting.

"What?" Ritsuka asked, a little put out that Kio wouldn't let him finish.

"Have you been bitten by the love bug?"

"...What?"

"Has Dr. Snugglebum infected you with googoo eyes?"

"Stupid, Ritsuka doesn't speak flamer," said Youji.

"He wants to know if you're crushing on Seimei," said Natsuo.

"What?" Ritsuka exclaimed. "I….why would you even…."

"Ritsuka…." Kio said, with forced patience. "I know that Seimei is really charming and hot and all that stuff but….it's a seriously bad idea to get attached to him. Going down that path is setting yourself up for nothing but pain."

"He's right," said Natsuo. "The only people on your safe list for dating are Soubi's other boys."

Ritsuka sunk into his chair. "I don't like any of them. And I don't have a crush on Seimei."

"Good," said Kio. "See that it stays that way."

"Aww, come on, Kio." Youji protested, stuffing more bits of waffle into his mouth. "Seimei's the hottest bachelor on Soubi's client list. Let the kid dream."

"But…."

"It's not like anything's going to happen." Youji went on. "Ritsuka will have his fantasy, then get over it, and then move on."

Kio sighed. "Well….I suppose it's not like the rest of us haven't fantasized once or twice about him…."

Natsuo nodded. "Youji and I have been trying to talk him into a threesome with us for….ages. But he always says no. Maybe we need to wear skimpier clothes next time we ask…."

Ritsuka began spooning the rest of his breakfast quickly into his mouth. He wasn't hungry anymore; his stomach hurt so badly. But he needed a distraction from their chatter, and he needed an excuse not to speak again.

* * *

><p>Breakfast lasted so long that it ended up being more of a quasi-lunch. Ritsuka and the others returned to the house afterwards – and Ritsuka learned that it was an unspoken rule that each boy tidy up his space. So he passed the afternoon by making up his bed and straightening up what few possessions he'd taken with him after running away. The sketchbook and his drawing supplies were always in the most orderly, pristine condition, though. They didn't require much effort at all.<p>

After that, it was time once more to dress for the night. Kio helped out again, styling Ritsuka's hair and making sure his clothes were revealing enough to attract clients. This time, Kio had chosen barely-there shorts and a tight leather jacket.

"You've got great legs, Ritsuka," he explained. "You need to show them off."

"But I'll freeze out there!"

"Just dance and keep your jacket on. You'll be fine."

So that was how Ritsuka found himself as we stood on the street with the others – shivering and dancing close to Kio, trying desperately to maintain body heat.

"Work it, Ritsuka, work it! Shake that ass!" Youji had come up behind him and slid a finger into each side of his beltloops.

Ritsuka's immediate reaction was to STOP dancing and attempt to turn around.

"No, no, no," said Natsuo. "Keep moving. Rub your ass against his crotch. If he gets hard, you're doing it right."

"Natsuo!" Ritsuka exclaimed, his face heating up.

"I'm SERIOUS," he said, shoving Ritsuka back against Youji. "He has amazing mind power over his erections. If you can get him to spring on against his fighting it off, you've got a nice money maker going on."

Ritsuka glanced over at the street. There were quite a few cars tonight. Not quite as dead as it was yesterday, which meant he'd definitely be going with someone again. He couldn't see a Rolls Royce anywhere. He wanted to be visible when Seimei came around-IF he came around, but he didn't want to attract anyone else's attention too soon.

"Ritsuka, if you don't do something I'm going to get an INVERTED erection," said Youji, sounding as if his patience were wearing paper-thin.

Startled, Ritsuka tried again. He couldn't quite bring himself to do all that Natsuo had told him to, but he managed to swivel his hips a bit while he peered out into the night. It was difficult because Seimei's car was black…he wouldn't really be able to see it until it was already close up to the curb….

"Ritsuka….come on. You're barely doing anything at all. Why are you so distracted?" Natsuo huffed.

Ritsuka looked back at the other boys. Kio was staring at him calculatingly, a hint of suspicion on his face. He had been texting for the past 10 minutes. Ritsuka assumed it must be Soubi. They were on some pretty heated terms that evening, and he couldn't help but wonder if it still had anything to do with that stupid bejeweled peacock thong.

"We should get Kano to take up the front," said Natsuo. "THAT'LL keep his attention."

"What, that ex-model boy?" said Ritsuka. "But I don't know him."

"You shy?" Ask Youji, a whisper right in his ear. He shivered involuntarily.

"I'm not shy," Ritsuka bit out between clenched teeth. It annoyed him that Youji had managed to make him shiver. Which immediately led him to wonder if Youji had ever made SEIMEI shiver…and then his stomach felt sick again.

"Hey!" Natsuo shouted. "Kano! Come over here!"

Resisting the urge to hide behind Kio, Ritsuka watched as a very young, tall boy walked over. He looked every bit a model: flawless skin, cute face, body full of lean lines and clean-cut edges. When he got near enough, Ritsuka even discovered that he smelled as good as he looked, and that his nails were perfectly manicured.

Ritsuka's heart beat into overdrive. What if Seimei came by tonight and saw Kano there? He would definitely take him over Ritsuka…there was no way Ritsuka could compete. And Seimei had already said that he found Kano attractive…and then there was that thing about how Seimei never took the same boy twice in a row…Ritsuka was doomed for sure.

"Yes?" Kano asked, his voice tranquil and smooth. It was odd, though, how it also sounded….hollow. Like a jug that had been filled and emptied out one too many times.

"This hot piece of ass is Ritsuka," said Youji, his hands all over Ritsuka's hips. "I'm teaching him how to dance but he's shy. Want to help me?"

Kano shrugged. "Sure. Hi, Ritsuka."

"Um." A tiny, victimized noise escaped him as Kano reached passed Ritsuka and grabbed hold of Youji's belt loops, then yanked him close, smashing Ritsuka between them. "..H-hi."

"You're cute," said Kano, which was definitely not what Ritsuka expected to hear from someone like him. "But you're a mess. You'll get more clients if you exhibit confidence. Follow the movement of my hips, but counter it. Okay?"

"Okay…." Ritsuka murmured hesitantly.

Kano started up a slow grind, one that Youji apparently knew well. Ritsuka soon found himself without any choice for which direction his hips ought to go. Sandwiched between the two of them, it was very natural for his body to move against theirs. Kano would rock forward and Ritsuka would rock back and against him, helped along by Youji behind him. Eventually, Ritsuka stopped relying on their leads to know what movements to make. He didn't need them to guide him anymore. He was following their own shared beat all on his own.

He heard Natsuo wolf whistle at the three of them. "Now THAT'S what I'm talking about!"

It had worked out as planned, in any event. Ritsuka was definitely distracted. Or perhaps disheartened was a better word. Kano was tantalizingly attractive. If he were a normal person who felt sexually wanton on a regular basis, Kano would definitely be able to make those stirrings come alive. Instead, it only made him want smash mud in his face before Seimei came around and looked at him.

And now that he saw Kano up close, he recognized him from posters in shop windows. Just last Spring he was on a billboard Ritsuka passed every morning on the way to school. Scathingly, he wondered what kind of Seimei tally Kano was up to.

"You've got it," he said, stepping back.

"Don't stop now," Youji whined. "It feels so good."

Ritsuka stepped away quickly, only just now realizing there was a very prominent bulge in Youji's pants. Like an idiot, Ritsuka was blushing again, and he hated himself for that. Kano was right; he WAS a mess. He didn't want Seimei seeing him like this.

"Hey, Ritsuka!"

He looked over to Kio, who was watching him again. "Stop looking for Seimei Aoyagi. There are many other clients who will serve their purpose just as well."

"I'm not looking for Seimei!" He lied, and turned completely away from the street.

"It's okay," said Kano, also watching Ritsuka's face carefully. What WAS this anyway? "Seimei is a good client. He has a way of making us feel comfortable."

Ritsuka folded his arms closer into his chest, hoping the movement looked like he were warding off the chill and not acting defensive. "I wasn't looking for him."

"Can I kiss you?" asked Kano, and Ritsuka blinked.

"What?"

"I want to know what it's like to kiss you." Kano's face was completely, 100% dead serious.

"Kiss him!" hissed Youji excitedly. "Go on, go on!"

"I... guess that's okay."

Ritsuka wasn't sure what to expect. Kano stepped forward without any further prelude, setting his hands on Ritsuka's shoulders. He bent down and touched his lips to Ritsuka's, once, softly, and without even the hint of tongue. Then he pulled back, looking just as serious as ever.

Ritsuka had no idea what to say. Thanks? Okay then, see you around? There was no feeling inside him except discomfort.

Natsuo cut in before things became awkward. "You guys look so cute together!"

"You really do," said Kio. He was smiling now, his cell phone pocketed. Maybe he and Soubi made up. "You've got that cute and innocent first time romance look going on."

Ritsuka wanted nothing more than to bury his head in a mountain of sand and never have anyone look at him ever again. But Kano was smiling now; not meanly, not even sheepishly. People were SHIPPING them, and he looked pleased, and maybe even delighted by Ritsuka's obvious embarrassment.

"Soubi might even want to film you two," Youji said, smiling. "I KNOW he could make some serious money on this…"

Ritsuka couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Soubi….sells videos of the boys?"

"Hell yeah," Youji answered. "Well….not videos of us just sitting around kissing each other of course. Those really wouldn't sell. You'd have to fuck Kano for Soubi to make any money off it."

After that, Ritsuka wished even more for that mountain of sand. Soubi was very, very much unlike Ritsuka thought. It was starting to seem all the guy cared about was sex and how to profit from it.

Kano didn't speak one of protest at this idea.

"But I'm sure that Soubi wouldn't ask you to do that for a few weeks, at least, Ritsuka." Kio explained. "He knows you're still new to all of this. Speaking of which, you can still come and observe with me tonight since you didn't really get a chance to yesterday. See how a master does it."

Before Ritsuka had a chance to answer, a pair of gleaming headlights shined out of the darkness, glowing brighter and brighter. A car was pulling up to the curb, rolling to a stop right in front of Ritsuka. It was the black Rolls Royce….Seimei was here.

Ritsuka felt like running. He couldn't stand here and listen to Seimei ask for another boy. He just couldn't.

The driver's side window rolled down smoothly, revealing Seimei at the wheel. He was wearing the same warm smile that Ritsuka had gotten so accustomed to last night.

"Hello, Ritsuka….care to join me tonight?" he asked. Then his smile turned a bit wicked. "There's chocolate we haven't finished…."

There was only one answer in the whole world that Ritsuka wanted to give. "Sure!"

He spared one moment to glance at Kio, Youji, and Natsuo and give them all a victorious smirk. He felt so VINDICATED now…almost without knowing why. They were WRONG about Seimei…Seimei WOULD choose the same boy twice. If it was the RIGHT boy. If it was Ritsuka. Then, without another word, Ritsuka sprinted to the passenger side of the Rolls and hopped in.

As the car sped out of sight, Kio watched, blinking stupidly. "Did that…..just happen?"

Youji smiled, clearly impressed. "Hey….Ritsuka must know more than we thought. That little minx!"

Kano smiled too, staring at the ground thoughtfully. "Yes….a minx indeed."

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><p><strong>We hope you enjoyed it! Remember, reviews make us go :D!<strong>


	8. Chapter 8

Author's notes: BratChild3 and I would like to thank ALL of you for reading and reviewing and following so far! We know that we've been late with updating - it's NOT due to loss of interest in this fic, we can promise you that. Our lives have just been quite busy lately, and time for writing has been hard to find. We are squeezing out time as much as we can, and we are proud to present the latest installment here. We hope you enjoy and review!

Also - BC3 wanted to show you the actual pic of Ritsuka's peacock thong but it is no longer on Amazon! DX We both wish you all could have seen it. lol

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><p><strong>Chapter 8<strong>

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><p>It was like a whole other world inside Seimei's pristine Rolls Royce. Outside, the night was black and bitterly cold, but within the car, Ritsuka felt warm and bright. The lights on the dash were orangey-yellow, casting a soft glow on Seimei's profile.<p>

He was just as handsome as the last time Ritsuka had seen him, and this time, Ritsuka didn't feel quite so wrong to stare. Surely after their last visit, looking was acceptable. Seimei's hair was tousled a little, but by no means untidy. He was attentive to the road but there was a tiny smile playing about his lips. All Ritsuka could assume was that Seimei was happy to have him around, and that made him feel even more delighted inside. "Is it warm enough for you?" Seimei asked, pulling his eyes from the road and looking quickly at Ritsuka. "It must have been freezing out there." He looked back at Ritsuka again after that, glancing pointedly at his bare legs.

Ritsuka's hands were pressed between his knees, and Seimei's stare had him squeezing them tighter, self consciously.

"Oh, no, I'm fine," he said, and laughed nervously. "Kio dressed me again. He says it will attract customers, and I think Youji tried to rape me, so it must be working."

Seimei turned his head to look at Ritsuka again, eyes wide. He said nothing. Soon, the car began drift ever so slightly to the left, until it was actually veering out of its lane. Ritsuka was bewildered. What on earth was wrong? And then it clicked.

"Oh no! I didn't mean literally!" he said quickly.

Seimei exhaled, finally returning his eyes to the road and righting the car's trajectory. "You really ought not scare a criminal defense attorney that way," Seimei said. He sounded like he was trying to make a joke, but Ritsuka got the feeling that Seimei had been affected by the thought more than he was letting on.

"Sorry," he said, offering a reassuring smile. "You don't have to worry about me. I'm tougher than I look."

One side of Seimei's mouth twitched upward. He flicked on his right blinker and said, "Is that so?"

"It is. I've got a mean right hook." Ritsuka made an uppercut gesture that had Seimei chuckling beneath his breath.

Ritsuka was pretty certain Seimei wasn't buying it, and it was true that Ritsuka had never actually used any type of violent action toward anyone, but Seimei seemed amused and maybe even a little bit charmed. Ritsuka smiled, and this time his hands rested comfortably in his lap. Seimei made feeling relaxed easy.

"I see," Seimei said, smiling. "Well...what exactly happened on this 'figurative' attempted rape, then?"

Ritsuka immediately blushed. He wasn't sure how he was supposed to say that he was dancing on the street between Youji and Kano in order to stay warm and attract clientele. "Well...while I was waiting out there tonight...Youji was behind me and he sort of...danced with me." It sounded woefully inadequate even to Ritsuka's own ears. "Danced with you?" asked Seimei. "And this constituted rape?"

"Well..." Ritsuka began, "We were dancing...you know...where we were trying to attract...people. And Youji sort of...got enthusiastic about it." He hoped that Seimei would understand what he was trying to say without him having to actually say it.

"...ah." said Seimei.

Ritsuka said nothing, waiting to see how exactly Seimei would react. He couldn't tell if that "ah" was a good or bad one.

After a few beats of silence, Seimei said, "Would you ever consider dancing for me?"

Ritsuka was startled into silence for a few beats. He didn't want to say no; he wasn't even sure he COULD say no to a client. But dance? In front of Seimei? He'd rather shove bamboo shoots up his fingernails than subject himself to that humiliation.

He squeezed his hands between his knees again.

"Actually, that's why I called it almost-rape. I don't dance and Youji forced me. And Kano helped him. It was a gang dance-rape."

"Gang dance-rape, huh?" Seimei chuckled, and his voice was rich and throaty to Ritsuka's ears. "You make it all sound very risque. I'm sure you'd make a terrific dancer...you certainly have the body for it."

He cast a fleeting, sideways glance at Ritsuka's legs that made his stomach do a rather impressive somersault. He began hammering them together against his hands.

"Do you really think so? I never really considered before if I would be any good at it."

"It's safe to say that if you've impressed Youji, you must be deathly enticing."

"I want to impress you, not Youji," Ritsuka found himself saying, no forethought behind the words. Seimei's eyebrows shot up in what appeared to be a mixture of surprise and intrigue. Ritsuka was pretty sure he should be blushing and he probably was, but he carried on, some invisible stream of bravery flooding him. "Do you want me to dance for you? I could try…"

Ritsuka heard something that sounded like a hard swallow from Seimei's side of the car.

"I would love for you to dance for me," said Seimei, sounding completely certain. "When would it happen?"

Ritsuka thought that question meant that Seimei was eager for it. The invisible stream of bravery met a stream of pride, and together they mixed to form something heady and exciting. "Whenever you want...I could do it tonight, if you want." Seimei nodded. "I want." Again, no hesitation at all.

Inside the penthouse, Ritsuka felt comfortable enough to navigate toward the fireplace after Seimei had removed his jacket for him.

"Something to drink?" Seimei asked from behind him.

Ritsuka turned and met his gaze, warmed more by his smile than the flames in the grate. "Maybe just water this time."

Seimei's smile widened. "You still haven't forgiven yourself for the wine?"

Ritsuka shook his head, and Seimei pointed at the carpet where the incident had occurred. "But look there. Not the barest hint of wine. And you seem to be much less nervous this time."

"Strangely, you're right." He paused, "Maybe if you have something with flavor in a color that isn't as scary as red wine?"

"How do you feel about ginger ale?" Seimei asked.

Ritsuka nodded. "That's not scary."

Seimei chuckled, then disappeared into a kitchenette that Ritsuka hadn't noticed before. There came the sounds of a cabinet being opened and two glasses tinkling. Seimei reappeared soon after that, ginger ale for both of them in his hands, bubbling and fizzing merrily in glass tumblers. "I believe you ordered one entirely non-threatening beverage?" He asked solicitously, holding out one glass toward Ritsuka.

Ritsuka laughed, feeling his nose crinkle up. "It sounds ridiculous when you put it like that." He took the glass and added, "thanks."

"It's not ridiculous at all. In fact, it's quite endearing. I don't believe anyone else has ever cared this much about my carpet." He held out his glass, eyes twinkling, and Ritsuka clincked his against it. This ice chinked inside, soft light catching the bubbles as he watched Seimei take a sip.

He had a very nice mouth.

Seeming to sense Ritsuka's good mood, Seimei took his hand and led him into the sitting room. They took seats on the white couch there, where Ritsuka and Seimei had first kissed. Seimei was close enough to kiss right now. Ritsuka could feel his body heat where their thighs were touching.

"Ritsuka..." Seimei began, pausing to take another sip from his glass. "I remember you telling me that you sketch...have you completed any drawings lately?"

Frowning, Ritsuka thought about the last thing he had sketched: a wine glass, half full, with a couple chocolates beside it. That had been just before twilight, when Kio was reglossing Ritsuka's hair and nails for the night. He had been thinking about Seimei and hoping he'd come back tonight. He did.

Ritsuka felt his cheeks get hot and swished his ice around his glass, dropping his eyes. "I did one early this evening. It was just a doodle, really."

Seimei smiled. "I get the feeling somehow that you are understating. May I ask what it was?"

At this, Ritsuka's cheeks burned even brighter. He was sure that Seimei wouldn't be able to miss it. "Just a still life."

Seimei nodded at him, still with a smile plain on his face. His eyes were warm and welcoming. He looked like he had every faith that Ritsuka's drawing would be splendid - which made Ritsuka brave enough to say:

"I brought my sketchpad tonight...do you think you'd want to see some?"

Seimei's eyes became that much warmer. "I'd love to."

If Seimei wondered why Ritsuka had brought a sketchpad with him to the street, he didn't vocalize it. Ritsuka was glad; the reason he had brought it at all was because he had been hoping against hope that he'd be with Seimei again tonight, despite the other boy's promises that it would never happen.

"It's in the pocket of my jacket," he said, starting to rise. But Seimei stood quickly and held out his hands, motioning for Ritsuka to sit.

"No, please. Allow me?"

Ritsuka nodded, and he was almost positive Seimei didn't realize how much of a big deal that was. Ritsuka didn't like people looking at his sketchbook. And he certainly never allowed anyone to TOUCH it. But Seimei was just so... Ritsuka didn't even know. He trusted Seimei, for whatever reason.

And he did not trust deeply so easily.

Seimei disappeared into the foyer - where Ritsuka's jacket hung neatly on a coat hook. When he returned, the small black sketchbook was held in his hand, unopened. He sat down again, close to Ritsuka's side, and held out the little book.

"The leather is exquisite," Seimei remarked, referring to the leather cover on the front and back.

"It's not new or anything," Ritsuka hastened to assure him. "I've had it since I was little." The pages inside were brand new, however. Only the leather cover was aged. It had come from Ritsuka's old sketchbook, which had gotten rained on - and nearly completely ruined - during the days of Ritsuka's homelessness. Ritsuka had managed to salvage the leather cover from it, though. He neglected to tell Seimei that the previous sketchbook had been given to him by his mother - before the days when bruises and bleeding and broken wrists were more common gifts than anything else.

"New doesn't necessarily mean better...sometimes the things with the longest history are the most beautiful."

Privately, Ritsuka agreed, but it left him feeling like he was inadequate to Seimei compared to all Soubi's other boys, who had most definitely had a longer history with him.

With a sigh he hadn't wanted to escape him, Ritsuka edged a bit closer to Seimei and flipped open the sketchpad to the first drawing. It was the small koi pond in front of Chai's diner. The original had been among those that had been lost with his first sketch pad, but he'd returned to the diner with his new pad for a fresh drawing and a hot cup of tea.

In a way, the second was better; he hadn't been distracted by Soubi's silhouette in the reflection this time, and the result was soft and tranquil.

"This is in front of a diner on the far end of town. Way past the heart of the city, on the edge. I don't think a lot of people know about it."

"Chai's diner," said Seimei, shocking Ritsuka so badly he actually started. "I know it. ...I know it very well."

Something about Seimei's tone made Ritsuka reluctant to ask HOW Seimei knew it. He didn't sound happy about the place, or even nostalgic. He sounded...closed.

Ritsuka opted for something neutral to reply with. "The tea is great there," he said, and Seimei nodded in agreement.

Ritsuka flipped to the next sketch: an empty plot of land between two old, decrepit buildings. There was one lonely tree in the middle of the plot, nearly bare of leaves.

"Remarkable..." Seimei murmured, and he actually reached out to touch the drawing, looking mesmerized. "I've driven down this street a hundred times and it's like you've taken a photo of it, not made a drawing. Even the weeds are right." Ritsuka kept his eyes on the drawing, not on Seimei's face, afraid he'd stutter or stammer his words if he met his gaze. "I wanted to make it real. That place is so...sad."

Seimei nodded. "Like an abandoned child. An orphan."

Ritsuka looked at Seimei at that, only to find Seimei looking right back at him. The drawing was momentarily forgotten. Ritsuka was so surprised that Seimei understood exactly what he meant about the plot being sad...and he could see that Seimei was equally surprised himself.

He wanted to ask a thousand things; he wanted to know about Seimei, unveil everything underneath those hypnotizing eyes. He wanted to reach out and touch his face and feel him lean into the touch.

It wasn't appropriate, though; maybe in time. But then, maybe never. They weren't close. They weren't even friends.

Ritsuka forced himself to look back down and flip to the next. This was drawn from the bridge connecting the city to the suburbs on the north side; he captured it during a storm, and the sky was clouded with darkness.

"May I?" Seimei asked, and Ritsuka passed it to him. Seimei held the drawing up close and squinted at it, turned it to the side. He laughed shortly and turned it to Ritsuka. "This building here? This is the lawfirm where I work."

"Is it _really_?" Ritsuka asked, his eyes widening.

"Ritsuka, this is exquisite. The details are so precise that I'm able to pick out the very window to my office. This one here," he tapped one of the windows on the fourth floor.

Ritsuka fidgeted in his seat, picking at his nails. He didn't know how to respond to such high praise. He supposed he should say "thank you" but that felt like he was agreeing that his drawing was "exquisite." And yet, he didn't want to argue with Seimei.

He was saved from answering in the end, though, because Seimei spoke again. "Which reminds me...I really need to update the curtains in there," he said, and then laughed. Ritsuka's tension melted away and he laughed along, half grateful for the out and half charmed.

Seimei shook his head in wonder one last time at the image of city before turning to the next sketch. When he saw it, he pulled his hand away, slowly, as if reluctant to even touch the pages.

The image was one of Soubi, drawn when Ritsuka barely knew the man. His blond hair was down and flowing, glasses perched on the bridge of his nose like a delicate ornament. His expression in the sketch was neutral...almost inscrutable, but Seimei reacted as though the image were that of a ghost. He sat frozen in place, staring at the drawing with far-away eyes. There was something in his face...some sort of feeling...but Ritsuka couldn't place it. "This one is also...a remarkable likeness."

"Have you met Soubi?" Ritsuka asked, unable to stop himself. "Do you know him well?"

Seimei hesitated for the barest of moments before answering. "In a manner of speaking."

That was all he said. Then he flipped the page to the next drawing.

Ritsuka stared at Seimei a while, wanting so badly to press him for answers. That seemed like a pretty strong reaction to a person he simply did business with. But he reminded himself, reluctantly, that no matter how comfortable he felt with Seimei, this was only his third time meeting him. He had no idea if he sported a hot temper beneath his calm composure and cordially mannerisms.

Without a word, Ritsuka looked back to the sketchbook and watched as Seimei looked through the rest of them. A mother duck and her ducklings playing in a rain puddle; Kio with his cell in his hand, reading a text with a smile on his face; a windchime that hung on a rusted nail on the corner of Soubi's House; and finally, the wine glasses and chocolates.

Ritsuka froze, wondering if Seimei would realize Ritsuka had drawn it to remember his first night with him.

To his relief, Seimei broke out into a big smile.

"This one is charming..." Seimei said, trailing off into chuckles. He looked up to meet Ritsuka's eyes. "Didn't I tell you those chocolates were aphrodisiacs?" Ritsuka blushed and nodded, unable to keep a smile off his own face.

Seimei took one last look at the page before closing the sketchbook reverently and placing it on the coffee table before them. He turned back to Ritsuka, reaching out to touch the delicate bones in the back of his hand, looking thoughtful.

"You have a gift, Ritsuka..." Seimei said, speaking to their hands. "You're very talented. Thank you for showing your drawings to me."

"Thank you for wanting to see them," he said.

He didn't mention that no one ever took much of an interest in them before. No one but Soubi, anyway. But that was something that seemed to have fizzled out after Ritsuka had PUT OUT for him.

The thought made him angry, and it must have shown on his face, because Seimei was suddenly brushing his cheek with the back of his hand.

"Is something troubling you?"

It was amazing, Ritsuka thought, that Seimei was a lawyer and not a psychologist. He was just too damned easy to talk to. And that was BAD. It was so bad because it made Ritsuka like him so much more.

He shook his head. "I'm just a little ticked off at someone. It's nothing. Can we have more chocolates?"

He was babbling and squeezing his hands between his knees again. Seimei patted one of them good-naturedly and stood.

"Of course. My thoughts were beginning to lean in that direction as well."

Ritsuka was thankful Seimei missed his blush that time.

Seimei disappeared again, this time to the kitchen, Ritsuka assumed. He was only gone for mere moments, and when he returned there was a handful of brightly-wrapped chocolates in his hands. He set them down on the coffee table, allowing the chocolates to spill about in their own course.

When Seimei sat down again, he reached for one of them. Ritsuka watched closely as Seimei's large hands unwrapped it with care. To his surprise, Seimei leaned in close to him, holding the chocolate up to his mouth.

Ritsuka's skin broke out in a wave of heat. It was obvious that Seimei wanted to feed it to him. He opened his mouth obediently, and Seimei's fingers gently touched his lips, placing the chocolate on his tongue. Ritsuka didn't know how so much bravery had come to him in one single night, but he had enough left to kiss at Seimei's fingers as they began to pull away.

Seimei inhaled sharply enough that Ritsuka heard it. He froze, fingers still against Ritsuka's lips.

Deciding this reaction to be favorable, Ritsuka grew more bold, flicking his tongue out, tasting Seimei's skin. There was nothing but clean smoothness. Ritsuka kissed and licked the fingertips, eventually drawing one of them into his mouth, lips gliding down past the knuckles. He looked up from under his eyelids as he did. He wanted to gauge Seimei's reaction.

The man looked completely mesmerized: eyes bright, breathing shallow, cheeks flushed in the evening light.

This time, Ritsuka selected a chocolate, holding Seimei's stare as he unwrapped it and brought the morsel to his own lips. He took a slow, teasing bite; barely grazing the surface, and with a flicker of tongue that made Seimei swallow audibly. Ritsuka smirked and pressed it to Seimei's lips.

Seimei's lips were smooth, and shaped delicately, as if drawn by an artist's hand. There was a cupid's bow shape along the top while the bottom held a barely-there upward curve, which made Seimei seem as if he were always on the verge of a smile. They parted around the chocolate gently. Ritsuka felt the warmth of Seimei's breath against his fingers as the chocolate slipped inside Seimei's mouth. He lingered there, waiting to see if Seimei would toy with his fingertips as he had toyed with Seimei's.

He did. Ritsuka felt slick warmth engulf his finger, down past the second knuckle. He gasped involuntarily, then moaned as it retracted and he felt sharp teeth graze the pad of his fingertip. It was unexpectedly sensitive and send a jolt through his stomach.

He watched spellbound as Seimei repeated this on each of his other fingers, breath growing deeper by the second.

"Ritsuka," breathed Seimei, when he had finished. He had captured Ritsuka's wrist and was staring at him, his expression dark and sultry.

Ritsuka swallowed, and suddenly Seimei was on top of him, biting and sucking at his ear.

It wasn't long after that that Ritsuka felt Seimei's hands slipping up underneath his shirt. Seimei was single-minded in his pursuit, but still he managed to make every touch memorable. Ritsuka was slowly and steadily pulled under by the sensations - before he knew it, his bare legs were wrapped around Seimei's waist. When he realized he had done so, he was too far gone to feel embarrassed by it.

Seimei pressed his hips forward and the pair of them inhaled sharply. That was all it took for the rocking, rhythmic motions of sex to start between them. 

* * *

><p>On the car ride back to Soubi's house, Ritsuka had fallen asleep in the Rolls Royce; chin dipped to his chest and shoulder leaning against the armrest closest to Seimei.<p>

He was woken gently by a warm hand over his own and a soft murmuring in his ear. Sitting up, he looked around blearily, seeing The Street empty of boys, but still dark. Most of the surrounding businesses had shut off their neon signs.

"Back at the house already," Ritsuka sighed, forgetting himself in his sleepiness. He didn't want Seimei to know just how much he would rather be staying in his penthouse.

"I'm afraid so," Seimei said with an apologetic smile. He squeezed Ritsuka's hand. "Thank you for a...thoroughly enjoyable evening." His eyes glittered.

Ritsuka huffed out a laugh, embarrassed. It seemed that his earlier bravado was waning as the night did. He opened the door and stepped out, murmuring a "goodnight" as he did so.  
>"Goodnight, Ritsuka."<p>

He didn't spare a backwards glance. He didn't want Seimei to start feeling uncomfortable or, worse, _pity_. Soubi's House was nice, it was comfortable, he had warmth, plenty of food, clothes, and access to more beauty products than a runway supermodel, thanks to Big Bro Kio.

Really, it was rather pleasant there. He just liked Seimei more than anyone else inside this place.

He closed the door quietly, not wanting to wake anyone who had already gotten home. It was close to 3 am, the hour any boys without a client gave up for the night. There really wasn't any business after 2.

The lights were on in the foyer, though, and Ritsuka could see Soubi's office beyond it - also lit. It didn't take long for Ritsuka to see why. Just a moment later, the door of the office opened and out stepped Kano. His hair was dishelved and Ritsuka could see even from here that his clothes were rumpled.

Kano looked up as he shut the door behind him. His eyes found Ritsuka's. Kano smiled and winked, reaching down and zipping up the fly of his pants before heading up the staircase.

Completely nonplussed, Ritsuka stared after him until someone called his name. He looked around and realized he was standing in the slice of light falling from Soubi's open office door.

The man was visible behind his desk, looking as smooth and composed as ever, although Ritsuka knew what had been happening not minutes ago. He waited for the jealousy to pierce him, but it either wasn't coming or there was a delay, because it never reached him before Soubi beckoned him inside.

Ritsuka obligued, even though all he wanted in the world was to sink nose deep into his blankets and sleep.

When Ritsuka was inside the office, Soubi used his chin to point in the direction of the door.

"If you'd be so kind..." he said, and Ritsuka shut the door behind himself. He wondered what on Earth this was going to be about.

"Youji tells me Seimei Aoyagi came for you again tonight. Impossible, ridiculously rebellious nuisance he may be, but he is not one to lie. Is this true?"

Ritsuka quickly weighed his options. Something inside himself said that it was a bad idea to tell Soubi that Semei had in fact asked for him again...but he couldn't see how lying would be a better idea either.

"Yeah," Ritsuka said in the end. "It's true."

Soubi pushed his long hair back behind one of his ears, making a "hmm" sound.

"It's odd, isn't it?" he asked.

Ritsuka only stared.  
>"That Mr. Aoyagi came for you twice in a row. I'm sure you've heard from the other boys that he is very strict in not 'playing favorites.'"<p>

Was this a trick question or something? Was Ritsuka in trouble? He couldn't see how he could possibly be. He went with a client and made Soubi money. Lots of money, from what he was aware. He wasn't exactly sure since Seimei had a private account with Soubi and chose to pay that way.

"I don't think he's playing favorites," he finally said, although secretly he hoped that's exactly what was going on. "Kio tells me he has varying tastes. Maybe he just happened to be craving my type twice in a row. You know. Like when you eat Mcdonald's for lunch and then dinner."

Soubi watched him, expression completely unreadable as he finished off a cigarette and stubbed it out in a ceramic ashtrash, painted with butterflies.

"You look like him...did you know that?" Soubi asked.

Ritsuka boggled. Him? Look like Seimei? Seimei was 100 percent, grade A, drop dead gorgeous. And Ritsuka was a scrawny thing who had to be worked on for hours by Kio to even be a functioning hooker.

"No, I don't." said Ritsuka bluntly.

"Oh, but you do," Soubi countered smoothly. He set his glasses a bit higher on the bridge of his nose, peering at Ritsuka keenly. "Your black hair...your skin...even something in your cheekbones...you look like him. Very like him."

Despite not believing a word of this blasphemy, Ritsuka felt his cheeks heating up. It wasn't that he was flattered, exactly; although being compared to Seimei certainly wasn't anything to sniff at. It was the way Soubi was watching him. Seeing him, but not, as if he were in a completely different time. And his expression had changed to something Ritsuka couldn't identify. It was openly _something_, but he couldn't make heads or tales of it. He only knew it made him uncomfortable.

"Strange coincidence, then," he said finally. "I hadn't noticed any resemblance and he hasn't seemed to either. He hasn't pointed it out, at least."

"Seimei..." Said Soubi, the name lingering on his lips. "he isn't much of a conversationalist. No. He wouldn't have said, would he? It's hard to know what's on his mind. WHO is on his mind."

Ritsuka felt oddly lost on these comments. In a way he agreed- there was no telling what exactly Seimei was thinking. He seemed pretty private. Then again, conversation seemed to be rather easy and natural between them. He thought Seimei was quite an amazing conversationalist.

"Ritsuka," said Soubi, patting his lap. He had pushed his chair back away from the desk a little. "Come here."

Ritsuka's stomach dropped. He almost couldn't believe that Soubi was asking for this right now. Hadn't Kano _just_ been in here? And it was nearly 3 am...didn't the man need sleep? Not only that, he knew that Ritsuka had worked tonight...he seemed to have no consideration for that at all. Ritsuka _almost_ couldn't believe it. Almost. In the end, some part of him was not surprised at all. When Soubi wanted one of the boys, Soubi got him.

Trying to remind himself that if not for Soubi, he would still be under his overpass, shivering and hungry, Ritsuka walked over and sat down in Soubi's lap.

As always, Soubi smelled of cigarette smoke, and the scent was much stronger up close.

"Seimei isn't very obedient either, is he?" asked Soubi, running his hands down Ritsuka's sides. He sounded like he didn't much care whether or not Ritsuka heard him. "Not like this..."

Soubi brought his lips to the back of Ritsuka's neck and suddenly froze, hands stilling on his sides. He breathed deeply, and Ritsuka shivered. "...you _smell_ like him."

No shit, Ritsuka wanted to say. He felt like reminding Soubi that Seimei had just been writhing and sweating all over him and, really, it wasn't that surprising he smelled like the guy.

Soubi ran a whorehouse, for goodness's sake. Surely he ought to know that the boys took showers after work for precisely that reason?

A moment later, _Ritsuka_ froze, feeling something firm pressing against his bottom. He felt Soubi's lips pressing against the back of his neck and along his shoulders - they hardly brushed against his skin but somehow that barely-there touch made him feel violated in a way he had never felt before. It felt like Soubi was lost inside himself.

Soubi's hands slid down to Ritsuka's hips and tightened on them, pulling Ritsuka closer against himself. He murmured quiet, black words into Ritsuka's ear.

"Did he take his pleasure from you this way...controlling...willing your body to respond? Did he make you wish that every moment would last just a little longer?"

He didn't know how he knew, but Soubi wasn't expecting an answer. Probably he wouldn't have even heard it if Ritsuka _had_ answered. Soubi was gone, and Ritsuka just wanted this over with.

He bit into his lip, closed his eyes, and let Soubi have his way with him. 

* * *

><p>To Ritsuka's immense relief, Soubi was quick with him, and he was climbing the steps to his bedroom in no time. He thought briefly of popping in for a shower, but decided against it. Kio was going to scrub him pink and lotion and gloss him again tomorrow, no doubt. Ritsuka felt he could live with the grime for one night.<p>

The other three boys were already in bed with the lights out, but Kio had a shadow box light he kept on while he slept, which sent patterns of hearts and butterflies spinning across the room.

Kio was asleep in his bunk, snoring softly and hugging a pillow with his arms and legs as if it were a person. His glasses had been removed along with the crazy amount of silver hoops normally decorating his ears. He looked oddly young, and sadly alone. For a moment, Ritsuka felt a swell of resentment toward Soubi for that.

He kicked off his shoes and pulled off his jacket before glancing toward Natuso and Youji, who opted to share a twin sized bed rather than sleep apart.

Natsuo's wild hair was spread about the pillow, his arms wrapped around Youji. Youji's head was resting on his chest, and he was sleeping like a baby. Even in sleep, he curled toward Natsuo's body. Youji looked so fierce in daylight, and was always so brash and brazen. But now...he seemed so strangely vulnerable, and Natsuo seemed like a protector. Natsuo wasn't sleeping yet, Ritsuka realized belatedly. His hands were gliding smoothly over Youji's hair, back, and arms. Natsuo's eyes were closed, and Ritsuka could see even in the dim light of the shadow box, that he felt completely at peace.

It was almost too lovely for Ritsuka to bear. Youji and Natsuo were so in love - he'd never questioned that. But now, here, he could see that the love was tender and soft. Ritsuka ached for them inside. Their love was precious, and rare, and beautiful. And Ritsuka had no hope that he would ever, ever experience it for himself.

He slipped out of his skank clothes and into a soft t-shirt and boxers, then settled into bed and stared sightlessly up at the ceiling.

Because there was only one person he wanted to experience it with, and it was as impossible as trying to catch a falling star.

Slowly, he closed his eyes, an imagine of a smile and the memory of hot kisses rocking him into gentle sleep.

* * *

><p>TO BE CONTINUED<p>

As always, thanks for reading! Reviews are dearly appreciated!

- BratChild3 and Magic Mind 


	9. Chapter 9

**Authors' Notes: We got this chapter out quickly! (Sorry for any typos, but we both wanted you all to have the chapter sooner rather than later.) THANK YOU to all the readers, followers, faves, and especially reviewers out there. We're so pleased with all of your support and we hope getting this update out quickly will bring in more. :)**

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><p><strong>Chapter Nine<strong>

* * *

><p>Black coffee was disgusting, but Ritsuka found himself sipping at it in the early afternoon, trying feebly to rid his head of the grogginess he'd felt ever since waking at around 10AM that morning. The night schedule wasn't easy to get used to; not for Ritsuka anyway, who'd been woken at the crack of dawn every morning and given random cold medicines — the <em>drowsy<em> kind— at 8pm every evening by his mother, who insisted on an early bedtime and uninterrupted night's sleep.

The mind fog usually wore off by nightfall, thank goodness, but he was finding late afternoon naps an increasing necessity. He hadn't wanted to at first, fearing the other boys would see him as more of a baby than they already did, but found that most— if not all— of the other boys were also fond of naps.

Presently, he couldn't seem to find Kio anywhere, Natsuo had been called to Soubi's office, and Ritsuka was in the back garden with an extremely ill-tempered Youji. It seemed nothing in the world annoyed him more than Soubi helping himself to his boyfriend. Ritsuka had never seen him in such a foul mood and wasn't altogether sure how best to handle him. He was perched on a bench, half-sketching the circular planter before him, filled with pink, blue, and purple flowers; and half listening and commenting to Youji's rant.

"As if that sleezeball doesn't have enough tail with the rest of the boys!" Youji shouted, pacing furiously. "God knows he makes use of them. And Kio would KILL to take care of his needs." Youji sneered this last part, as though nothing was more vile than wanting to be with Soubi. "He takes Natsuo JUST to get to me, I know it!"

"Maybe he just thinks Natsuo is hot," Ritsuka said, mildly.

Youji paused in his pacing, looking up at Ritsuka and snorting in derision. "Of course Natsuo's hot. The hottest thing in this city. But Soubi doesn't care about that. I annoy him so he takes Natsuo to annoy ME. He's a scumbag and a creep and he's a just plain overlord. He treats The House like his palace and all of us in it like his own personal harem. Except me, of course — he knows I'd bite him if he tried anything and NOT in the good way."

Ritsuka looked up from his sketchpad. Youji was ruthlessly grinding a defenseless afid into the ground, teeth clenched and bared.

"He never calls you to his office?"

"Hell NO," he said, giving the bug a final, cruel smear and taking up his pacing again.

Ritsuka blinked. "Then... then why does he keep you on? I thought-"

"Because I make him _bank_. I make him more in one night than some of them make in a week. There's no way he'll pass me up just because I hate his stupid, poker-faced, ass-cold, cigarette stenching, butterfly wearing, nut-case, creepy, pedophiliatic guts!" By this point he had torn a rather large switch off a tree and snapped it cleanly in half.

Ritsuka felt rather impressed by his strength. "He does seem to have a lot of... stamina."

"The creeper subsists primarily on Viagra and cigarettes," Youji snapped. "I know it."

Ritsuka laughed. He couldn't help himself. Luckily, Youji seemed to not take any offense toward this.

"How long has it been now?" he demanded. "Twenty minutes? What's taking so long?"

"It's only been four," Ritsuka pointed out, helpfully.

"That's FIVE minutes too many."

Ritsuka DID feel sorry for Youji. It couldn't be easy to let Natsuo be with someone else, right in front of him. He couldn't help thinking that Youji ought to be used to it by now, though. They were prostitutes — it was just a fact. They worked every night together, and even shared clients. Youji must know that Natsuo had no feelings for Soubi. It was patently clear that Natsuo was in love with Youji and no one else. Ritsuka's mind recalled the night before, and the picture that Youji and Natsuo had made together, with a pang of jealousy. Some part of him wanted to tell Youji that he should be grateful for what he had. It was something that most people only ever dreamed of having.

Youji picked up his ranting when Ritsuka didn't respond, muttering about how Natsuo would need a scrub and a hot shower to get the stench of Soubi off of him and Youji himself would make sure to do the scrubbing. Ritsuka went back to his sketching. The planter was taking life on his paper. Each flower was getting more and more detailed and Ritsuka admitted to himself that he was happy with his drawing so far.

He wondered what Seimei would think about it.

He had noticed a potted plant in Seimei's penthouse with orange roses in full bloom. He'd wondered jealously if someone had given it to him; an admirer maybe? A proper lover? But then maybe he simply liked flowers. It made Ritsuka that much more determined to show him this sketch.

He'd bring it in his coat pocket again tonight, he decided. The chances of Seimei coming for a third night in a row and again picking out Ritsuka were even more ridiculous than the two night chance had been, Ritsuka knew. But then, he HAD lucked out then, hadn't he? Perhaps he wasn't such a fool as to hope.

Youji's sudden halt in pacing and muttering caught his attention, and he looked around to see what had impacted the other boy so thoroughly.

Soubi was striding toward them, Natsuo closely behind. Ritsuka checked his watch again and frowned. It had been a mere seven minutes since Natsuo had disappeared into the office. Surely they weren't done?

"What happened?" Youji spat at Soubi, as Natsuo sprinted toward him. Youji immediately shoved him behind his back, as if protecting him from the likes of Soubi's perverseness. "Can't get it up anymore, old man? Ran out of your Viagra stash?"

Soubi stopped and stared at him a moment, looking thoroughly unimpressed and unaffected by the insults. Without a word, he turned toward Ritsuka and smiled. The warmest smile Ritsuka had seen in a while.

"Dear, dear, Ritsuka. Have I got a treat for you."

Something about that sounded like ANYTHING but a treat. Ritsuka felt a sense of foreboding well up inside him. He immediately closed his sketch book and shoved it into his pocket.

"What are you talking about?" he asked Soubi, not caring for the moment whether or not he sounded as respectful as an employee should.

"Come into my office," Soubi said smoothly. "Kano is waiting for us there. This treat is for the pair of you. I'm sure he is as anxious to hear about it as you are."

From his place a little way's off, Youji snorted. His arm was around Natsuo's waist, holding him so close that there was not an inch of space between them. "I bet this 'treat' involves Ritsuka and Kano making YOU a handful of cash."

"Considerably more than a handful, I would say," replied Soubi. He held open the back of door of the house, gesturing toward it solicitously. "Now then...if you please, Ritsuka?"

"Look out, Ritsuka," Youji called, as Ritsuka started toward the door in what felt like a death march. His heart was hammering. "The pervert will probably expect a celebratory suckoff session after this. Bring mouthwash."

This time, Soubi only response was a rude hand gesture that Ritsuka might have ordinarily found amusing if he didn't feel so panicked. WHAT was Soubi expecting him to do? It couldn't be a video already. The others had told him that wouldn't come for weeks, at least. It was too soon. And Ritsuka didn't even think he could handle a client yet, aside from Seimei. How could he possibly star in a video?

In the office, Kano was seated in the chair closest to the door, looking relaxed and far more attractive in jeans and a long sleeve than what should be allowed. His bored expression lit up when he looked up.

"Hello, Ritsuka."

"...Hi." Ritsuka said, unsurely.

Kano was smirking, his eyes half-lidded. He looked incredibly predatory, like Youji. Only where Youji made you want to back up against the wall, Kano emitted charisma and charm which was so inviting it almost made Ritsuka want to move closer and smile back. Instead, he moved past Kano and sat in the chair beside his, feeling Kano's stare on him the entire way.

Soubi draped himself in the chair behind his desk, still looking disturbingly pleased. He pulled a package of cigarettes from a drawer and lit one, inhaling deeply before exhaling the smoke with a satisfied sigh.

"Ritsuka...Kano...an order has been placed for you." he said. "A very special order. The two of you will be working tonight — together. You'll both be servicing the same client, and he is specifically requesting your mouths to do the work."

Soubi tapped his cigarette against the butterfly-painted ashtray, his eyes passing over both Ritsuka and Kano speculatively. "I can't say that I blame him. You both have such pretty mouths."

Ritsuka's heart slammed against his chest. His mind was racing so fast that the thoughts were making him feel dizzy. He had to service a client with Kano? They would be working together? Naked together? And he had to use his mouth? Ritsuka had never done that before. And worse...it was impossible for this client to be Seimei. Ritsuka remembered that he specifically had told Kio that threesomes were not his thing. This had to be someone new, and Ritsuka was already sure that they could not be as enjoyable to work with as Seimei.

Soubi continued, his voice lazy with satisfaction. "I'm expecting a generous payment, being that the order is so specific and on rather short notice. So I'm sure I don't need to tell the two of you that everything must run smoothly. Remember, the customer is always right."

"How short of notice?" Asked Kano, his voice as languid as Soubi's. Clearly, this "special order" didn't disturb him in the least, and neither did being referred to like a delicacy cake or something.

"Tonight, in fact," Soubi answered, tapping his finger against an open day planner. "8:00 pm. It's early, and I expect you will be back 10 or 11; however, as a bonus for attracting such satisfactory clientele, you may take the rest of the night off."

"Marvelous," said Kano, watching Ritsuka again.

"But— " said Ritsuka, and was cut off by Soubi.

"Kio will dress be the one to prepare you, as usual, but to the customer's specifications. He's requested matching outfits. I'd like a good look once you've both been completed."

Soubi truly thought of them as made-to-order toys, it seemed. He glared. "I'll bet you would."

Soubi only smirked.

Ritsuka stood up, ready to be out of Soubi's presence as early as possible. He was beginning to think that Youji had made some awfully good points about the state of Soubi's character. "Is that it?"

"That is all. Please do find Kio so that he may start preparing for your special night." The smirk never left Soubi's lips as he answered.

Kano nodded nonchalantly and stood up too, leaving and holding the office door for Ritsuka. When the door was safely closed behind them, Ritsuka wanted nothing more than to go into his bedroom and beat the stuffing out of his pillow; _anything_ for an emotional outlet.

But Kano smiled at him and said, "Well, this is lucky, isn't it? Only a couple of hours of work and then we get the night off."

Ritsuka shrugged, not meeting his eyes. Nothing about this evening sounded lucky to him.

"What's wrong?" Kano asked. He reached out and touched Ritsuka's shoulder. "You look like someone just let the air out of your corvette tires."

Ritsuka laughed half-heartedly. He appreciated Kano's concern but he didn't much feel up to spilling his guts to the guy. "I'm just disappointed that's all. It's nothing."

"Oh..." Kano said, and he sounded like he DID suddenly understand what the problem was. Ritsuka looked up at him and Kano's eyes were soft and sympathetic. "You were hoping to be with Seimei Aoyagi again tonight, weren't you?"

Ritsuka actually blanched at that. God, he was obvious? Was he really THAT obvious? He had been careful not to talk about Seimei. He thought about him near constantly, but never spoke about it.

"It's okay, Ritsuka," said Kano. "I won't tell anyone. Being smitten with someone you can't have more than a business relationship with is difficult enough without the added stress of everyone knowing. Emotional attachment is frowned upon in this profession."

At that moment, Youji stalked by, dragging Natsuo behind him. "Don't come into the room unless you want a nice x-rated show. I'm going to slam him senseless, as I damn well SHOULD be the one to do," he said as he passed, Natsuo actually GIGGLING as he went.

Ritsuka looked back at Kano, who was smiling apologetically. "Frowned upon if the emotional attachment is to the client, that is. Within Soubi's House, love blossoms."

Ritsuka brushed his bangs out of his eyes self-consciously. Kano was looking at him much too intently for him to be entirely comfortable. "Kio's already made it VERY clear that that's the way things are supposed to work around here." he muttered.

Kano hesitated for a moment before responding. "You know...maybe tonight, with this client of ours, you could just...pretend the client is Seimei."

Ritsuka only looked at him, bewildered.

Kano smiled. "Yeah, you know...you could think of it like practice. Seimei's bound to take you again sometime. And until he does, you can think of things as just practice for the next time you see him. Makes it a little easier to do, right?"

Although this seemed like an abrupt about-face from Kano, Ritsuka thought it was genuine. Something about Kano made him seem like the kind of person Ritsuka could become friends with. He gave advice without forcing it.

Ritsuka smiled, unable to help himself. "Well... it does sound a little more bearable. But I'm still not sure if I'm ready to... I mean I'm really not that experienced and it was only easy with Seimei because he's... he has this way that just..."

"I know," said Kano. "It's rare to get a client who puts you at ease like that. Most of them are quite impersonal and demanding, which you actually might find makes it easier. When you care about someone, you tend to feel a lot of guilt when you're elsewhere." Here, he paused to brush back Ritsuka's bangs, which had fallen back into his eyes. Ritsuka didn't flinch away, but only just. "When it's impersonal, it's easier to bear. It's more like... scrubbing toilets than being intimate."

Ritsuka nodded, feeling wary. He couldn't help wanting to take a step back but he suppressed the impulse. Kano was helping him out and he didn't want to appear rude. "Yeah...well, I guess we'll see."

Kano smiled again. "Soooo," he said. "Ready to track down Kio for our makeovers?"

"I'm sure he'll be ecstatic about doing the job," Ritsuka laughed, and followed Kano up the stairs.

* * *

><p>"This...is so bizarre." said Ritsuka.<p>

He and Kano were in the back of a taxi cab, on their way to their special "treat," and he just couldn't get over the costumes Kio had dressed them in. It wasn't Kio's FAULT, exactly; he had only decorated them according to the client's specifications. But Ritsuka felt downright foolish.

"I think it's cool," said Kano, much too happily. He spread his arms and looked down at himself again, then gave Ritsuka a sidelong glance that felt a little like a visual caress. "We're moon men."

Ritsuka laughed. They were dressed identically, in platform boots, skin-tight shiny pants, and form-fitting sleeveless T-shirts- all bright silver. Kio had even put make-up on them: eye shadow, eyeliner, sparkling nail polish on their toes and their fingers, again, all silver.

Ritsuka couldn't help thinking that even though they were dressed exactly alike, they looked very different. Kano seemed very futuristic and cool in his ensemble. Ritsuka was sure that he himself simply came off like a drag queen.

"So, how are you feeling about the job tonight? Still nervous?"

Ritsuka nodded. "Besides the fact that I've only ever worked with one client, I've never worked with somebody else before either."

"Well, I've been on jobs with some other boys before. Basically, it's pretty similar to working alone. It's just that a lot of time if a client orders a pair, they'll want the pair to do things with each other. It'll probably be that way tonight, if the matching outfits are anything to go by."

Ritsuka's heart pounded. This was beginning to feel like one surprise after another.

"Hey," Kano continued, his voice softening. "Is there any particular thing Seimei Aoyagi does with you that I could do? You know...help you imagine that you're doing stuff with him?"

Ritsuka considered this. There was so much that Seimei did. He wouldn't even know where to begin, and, in all honesty, he didn't even want to. Maybe Seimei dished out all the same caresses to every boy and Ritsuka was just being stupid for holding onto it like a secret gift, but he just couldn't help himself. There was noises and touches and glances. In all of them, he sifted through until he found one that seemed comforting and familiar, but not something he couldn't bear to part with.

"He touches my hair," he said, finally, and touched the back of his head, a little to one side. "Here. When we're kissing. He lays his hand there and his fingers slowly curl into the strands until he's holding on." Ritsuka pulled his hand away and looked to Kano, startled to see him staring in clear bewilderment. "What? What did I say?"

"You KISS? Seimei Aoyagi KISSES you?"

"Well...yeah." Ritsuka said, wondering why Kano was acting like this was some sort of huge shock. "He has sex with me, why wouldn't he?"

Kano just stared at him for a moment, that bewildered expression frozen onto his features. Finally he said, "Seimei...has never kissed me. In all the times I've been with him...not once."

Ritsuka boggled. "Never?"

"Never," said Kano, completely serious. "I tried it once and he stopped me...I mean, he was polite about it, don't get me wrong. But he was pretty clear that it's just...not his thing."

To Ritsuka's relief, Kano didn't sound jealous or even remotely bothered by this fact. He appeared to be simply stunned by this revelation.

Ritsuka rubbed nervously at the top of his arm. "I … I have no idea why…"

Kano was smirking. He reached over and sifted his fingers down the length of Ritsuka's hair. "A touch of hair it is, then. Just be aware that kissing may not be in the cards. I've never been with this client personally, but a few of the other boys have. He's not friendly, but neither is he mean-spirited. This whole thing will be nice and impersonal. Just follow my lead."

"But I don't know how to…. use my mouth like that," Ritsuka blurted, feeling suddenly desperate to jump out of the taxi. He couldn't face Soubi if he messed up this whole exchange. It sounded like a really big deal to him. And he didn't want to get thrown out; he would never see Seimei again.

"Relax." Kano patted his hand. "I'm good at non-verbal cues. I can instruct you as we go along."

Ritsuka exhaled, trying to calm his nerves. He nodded. Kano's presence was very helpful. Ritsuka didn't know how he would have done this by himself. The thought occurred to him that eventually he WOULD have to work alone with a client, and he shuddered.

A short time later, the cab pulled up to a dark and decrepit hotel. Ritsuka stepped out and saw that there were very few street lights working. The sidewalk under his feet was inundated by weeds, which grew bravely through the cracks. Kano was already hovering near the door of the building.

"Ready?" he called to Ritsuka.

Ritsuka gathered his nerve and nodded. "Yeah. I'm ready."

* * *

><p>Once they were inside, the pair of them took the elevator to the seventh floor. Kano had explained that they were expected to show up right at the client's door. Apparently Soubi didn't want any corners cut in the way of service tonight. Kano found the room easily, much to Ritsuka's dismay. He had been hoping for a few minutes' delay while they searched. Anything to put off the coming experience, no matter how inevitable it was at this point.<p>

Kano knocked loudly, like this was nothing. Ritsuka wondered if he felt nervous at all. He certainly didn't look it. From behind the door, a growlish sort of voice grunted for them to come in, and Kano did so without a moment's hesitation.

Ritsuka crowded behind him and followed into the dingy room, not moving out into view even when they stopped.

"I asked for two," said the man, gruffly.

Without turning around, Kano reached behind himself and tugged Ritsuka out by the arm, keeping his hand firmly gripped on the bend of his elbow. "Soubi always makes good on his promises. Do we meet your approval?"

The man was reclining on the bed, wearing nothing but a loose-fitting pair of shorts. His cold, gray eyes swept over them greedily, like a starving mouse sizing up a block of cheese twice the size of its own head. It was hard to tell from his positioning, but he looked stout; stocky legs and a round, protruding belly. He was probably in his mid to late forties, with half-silvered hair and a thick, wide mouth with a strong underbite, exactly like a bulldog.

"Yes," he said, almost to himself, in a sloppy voice that had Ritsuka wondering if he was about to drool— in an extremely grotesque way.

He did NOT want to touch this man and had half a mind to alert Kano to this fact right away. Surely Kano— handsome, young, strong Kano— was NOT going to perform sexual favors on this pervert.

But Kano was making no movement to leave. Ritsuka turned to him, half-panicked. He kept his eyes on the man, expression cool, and an iron grip on Ritsuka's inner-elbow; a clear sign they WERE going through with this.

Ritsuka fought hard to control his growing panic. He concentrated on his breathing, inhaling deeply and exhaling the same way. Maybe there was hope for the situation...maybe Ritsuka actually COULD get away with not touching the client at all. He was noticing now that the man honestly looked too lazy to have sex. There were orangey-yellow droplets of grease dotting his chest. From the smell of the room, the grease had come from cheap fast-food tacos. On the beside table, Ritsuka could see candy bar wrappers along with a few unopened Hostess cakes. The more Ritsuka saw, the more he found himself hoping that all this client wanted was a show. Maybe when Soubi had said he requested their mouths, he had meant using their mouths on EACH OTHER.

Kano maintained his cool expression as he asked, "What can we do for you, sir?" He sounded like a waiter, actually. Reserved but willing to please.

The man's answer fostered Ritsuka's hope tremendously. Ritsuka almost sighed with relief when he said, "Start warming up. Kiss. Make it slow."

Kano turned to him and pulled him close; which, admittedly, was not that much of a change since Ritsuka had practically glued himself to Kano's side in his apprehension. He did not know Kano hardly at all, but at the moment, Ritsuka clung to him like he was the only tree left standing in a hurricane. He was trying his own hand at communicating without words. He was asking, BEGGING for help. He was pleading with Kano to give the okay that they could JUST RUN.

Seeming to at least sense the silent, but rising, hysteria in Ritsuka's eyes, he said, very softly, "It's okay." Then he brush Ritsuka's bangs to the side and leaned in close to his ear. "Remember," he whispered. "This is only practice."

And then Kano kissed him.

Ritsuka couldn't help but instantly compare Kano's kiss to Seimei's. Kano's lips were firm on his, unyielding but not forcing Ritsuka to respond. Really, as the kiss went on, Ritsuka realized that unlike Seimei, who always seemed to work to elicit a positive reaction, Kano was unconcerned with whether or not Ritsuka was enjoying things or not. It became clear to Ritsuka that Kano thought of this purely as a job - and not one that should be performed as perfectly as possible. Kano did what the task required: no more, no less.

But he was, at least, trying to ease Ritsuka's apprehension. Kano seemed to remember what Ritsuka had told him, because at that moment, he slid his hand into Ritsuka's hair, just as Ritsuka had described in the cab. Immediately, a flood of memories came over Ritsuka. Seimei's hand in his hair, just there. Seimei kissing him. Not because he had been asked to, but because he wanted to. Wanted Ritsuka. Seimei with him on the couch, holding Ritsuka between his legs and touching him all over. Seimei pulling Ritsuka against him. Seimei, making Ritsuka feel more desirable than he'd ever felt before.

The memories overwhelmed him. He stepped closer to Kano, taking his collar in his hands and pulling him closer. He parted his lips, meeting Kano's tongue and thrusting against it. It wasn't Kano inside his mind. It was Seimei. Seimei's hand in his hair. Seimei's mouth against his. Ritsuka's hands fisted in Kano's shirt, letting out the barest of growls.

Suddenly, Kano pulled back. Ritsuka was left gasping for air as Kano kissed down his neck and to Ritsuka's ear. When he got there, he whispered something. It was so quiet that he had to strain to understand the words.

"Stop, Ritsuka, stop. He wants the aggressor. Trust me."

Ritsuka froze as Kano began nibbling his ear, hands sliding soothingly— not arousingly— down his sides. With his images of Seimei suddenly shattered, it took time a moment to realize Kano was trying to save him from this client. Somehow, he must have worked it out that the man would be most keen to have whoever overpowered the other, and he was placing himself firmly into that role. Rituska though it was very brave of him, and part of him felt a little guilty. The other part was so overwhelmed with relief he couldn't even fathom stopping him from playing hero.

Following Kano's lead, he relaxed into the touches, submission flooding through him like molten lava. Kano moved his mouth back to Ritsuka's and licked open his lips, pushing his tongue persuasively against Ritsuka's. Instinctively, Ritsuka's momentarily thrust back; but the reaction was one of welcome rather than a fight for domination.

Distantly, he heard a faint squelshing noise coming from somewhere by the bed. His eyes fluttered open a sliver, just enough to see that the client had taken out his unremarkable asset and had begun a lazy stroking as he watched. Ritsuka tried with difficulty not to wretch into Kano's mouth.

Without any forewarning, Kano grabbed onto his behind, squeezed, and then gave it a slap, which sounded impressive compared to how slightly it stung. Kano swallowed down Ritsuka's grunt of surprised and walked him backward toward the bed.

Ritsuka's heart immediately began slamming with such force that Ritsuka thought it would beat out of his chest. The faster they got to the bed, the sooner he and Kano would have to service Mr. Taco Grease. It was one of the least appealing futures Ritsuka had ever contemplated. But Kano was steady and relentless, walking Ritsuka further and further until the backs of his knees hit the bed. Kano's hands found their way to Ritsuka's shoulders and suddenly Ritsuka found himself plopped onto the bed. It squeaked uneasily.

The client let out a grunt that sounded appreciative.

Kano seemed determined to make it clear which of them was in charge. He straddled Ritsuka's lap, kissing him deeply. His hand was in Ritsuka's hair - which both reminded Ritsuka of his encounters with Seimei and also made it impossible for Ritsuka to pull away. Kano eventually did, though. He smiled devilishly at Ritsuka, though the smile didn't reach his eyes.

"I think we have someone here that needs our attention," he said.

_I CAN'T DO THIS!_ Ritsuka's mind screamed, his eyes wide and pleading with Kano's sorrowful ones. _DON'T MAKE ME DO THIS!_

Kano ran a tentative finger over Ritsuka's brow, as if soothing the worry apparent there. For whatever the reason, Ritsuka felt a sudden implosion of hatred toward Soubi. He had no doubt Kano would do his absolute best to save him from the worst of this situation tonight, but who would save Kano? And what about NEXT TIME? He wanted nothing more at that moment then to slap Soubi across the face so hard his stupid glasses shattered.

And Ritsuka DETESTED violence.

Without stopping to think, he said, with bitter conviction, "Soubi is a complete di-"

Kano speared his tongue into Ritsuka's mouth, effectively slicing off his words. Ritsuka struggled this time, which apparently did wonders for their client, who began grunting in a steady rhythm. The sound was horrifying enough to make Ritsuka go still. Kano pulled away again, a warning stark in his eyes.

"You'll have to excuse him," said Kano, now pinning Ritsuka down by the wrists. "But this is exactly why Soubi thought he'd be perfect. He oftentimes needs something big and satisfying to keep his mouth occupied."

Feeling stung, Ritsuka turned his head to the side, and Kano again leaned down to whisper, "Ritsuka, its okay. I wont let him hurt you."

Ritsuka closed his eyes and sighed deeply, giving a small nod he hoped was invisible to the client.

"Come 'or here," said the man, in a thick, scratchy voice.

Trying hard not to look reluctant, Ritsuka followed Kano's lead and took station on one side of the man while Kano moved to the other. Ritsuka kept his eyes trained on Kano. He did NOT want to kiss this man.

Kano flickered his eyes from the man's chest (if a small flat area above a pot belly could be called that) to the space between his legs, subtly nodding at it. Ritsuka took this to mean that kissing wasn't going to be required.

A moment later, Ritsuka's guess was confirmed. It seemed that this client didn't need much in the way of foreplay. He was none too subtle either. Ritsuka saw one pudgy hand find its way to Kano's head and guide it pointedly toward his crotch.

Ritsuka had to fight not to gag. Kano wasn't Seimei, by any means, but he was still a nice guy. He shouldn't have to service someone like this just to get food on the table. He raged again at Soubi, though he managed to keep his anger silent this time. It wasn't long before that anger turned to disgust, though. Kano had begun running one hand back and forth over their client's inner thigh.

"Why don't you be a good boy and help me?" Kano asked, the words so sudden and authoritative that Ritsuka actually started. "Before I MAKE you."

Mr. Taco Grease grunted and arched his back as far as an oversized bowling ball COULD arch. Kano rolled his eyes very subtly, as if to say he knew that would be the reaction if he ordered Ritsuka around. He then flicked his eyes from Ritsuka's hands— which were nervously clenched between his knees— to his own pocket.

Although he wasn't sure what was in there, Ritsuka almost instinctively knew what Kano expected him to do. Apparently, Soubi's boys weren't just good at getting the job done; they were merciless teases, too.

Internally bracing himself, Ritsuka took a breath and grabbed hold of the client's thigh and leaned over, reaching for Kano's pocket with his other hand. He felt the pressure of Mr. TG's arousal against his shirt front and heard the sharp intake of breath. The entire outfit would have to be burned.

From his propped up position against the pillows, Mr. TG watched through slitted eyes as Ritsuka slid his hand into the tight material of Kano's pants pocket. Luckily, they allowed for some give and he didn't have to make more than one attempt.

"Deeper," said Kano, in a sultry voice Ritsuka barely recognized. He slid his hand further in until his fingers touched a small package. He withdrew it without ceremony and would have laughed that IT was silver too if he hadn't been so mortified. He held it out for Kano, hoping he looked obedient enough to bore the man away from interest in him, and watched as Kano tore it open with his teeth.

"Now, Mr. Takahashi," Kano continued in that same sultry voice, addressing their client. Ritsuka supposed Kano had picked up the name from Soubi at some point. Or was it some sort of generic name for clients that all the boys used, to maintain anonymity? With a shock, Ritsuka realized that he'd heard that name before. Youji and Natsuo had once complained about doing a double order for him themselves. "I'm sure you understand. Much as we'd like to be skin-to-skin with someone as well-endowed as you -"

This time, Ritsuka wanted to roll his eyes.

" - we really must err on the side of the caution." Kano began to roll the condom down. He did it so efficiently that it looked like he'd done it hundreds of times before. Ritsuka realized with a gulp that he probably had. "No need to ruin our session here with worries, is there? And we promise to make it worth your while."

Kano narrowed his eyes at Ritsuka when he was down, smiling in an entirely conniving way. "Now...show me what else you can do for me. Slow licks. Make him want more. Make him want us both."

This was it. Half of Ritsuka wanted to run away and the other half wanted to throw up.

"Make it good," slurred Mr. Takahashi, as Ritsuka bent lower.

He wondered if the man was drunk. That would explain his exaggerated laziness. And that smell. But didn't alcohol make sex difficult? He had heard it had an adverse affect on a male's ability to perform, and he was thinking entirely too much about this. He leaned in and closed his eyes, thinking of Seimei as Kano's hand cupped the back of his neck and guided his head down to the appropriate area.

Seimei's eyes, he thought, slowly lapping with his tongue. Seimei's laugh. This wouldn't be horrible if he were servicing Seimei. It might even be enjoyable. The thought of hearing the sounds he could elicit if he did this for Seimei was actually a ridiculously pleasant one. He almost smiled, and then felt Kano lean forward, and their tongues clashed around Mr. Takahashi.

_Seimei_, his mind screamed, _think of Seimei, Seimei, Seimei…._

It became very hard to maintain the thought, though, because Mr. Takahashi began making sounds of his own. They were nothing if not sickening: grunts and half-formed commands of "slower" or "more" or "yeah, like that." Seimei sounded nothing like this man. Seimei would have groaned deliciously, voice smooth and low. He would have wound his hands in Ritsuka's hair, not to control him, but to feel him there. He would have fought to control himself, which would have made Ritsuka all the more pleased when he lost the battle and succumbed to pleasure.

Ritsuka must have underestimated the time it took for Mr. Takahashi to get what he paid for, or else his fantasies of Seimei had taken him over for longer than he thought. Either way, there was no mistaking the more frequent grunts coming from the head of the bed. Mr. Takahashi was soon mumbling "I'm gonna...gonna..."

Kano literally shoved Ritsuka away and swallowed the entire length, which gave Ritsuka no cause for concern that Kano would suffocate or choke. Mr. Takahashi was thrashing now; his fingers, blackened around the nails, were digging into Kano's shoulders, shoving him further down. Ritsuka put a hand to his mouth to cover a dry-heave. He glanced up at 's face to see his eyes were firmly closed.

Ritsuka bolted to the bathroom.

He had just enough left in him to quietly close the door and turn on the water. Then he fell to his knees in front of the toilet and began vomiting the takeout dinner he had eaten with Kio and Soubi not two hours ago. Thoughts of Seimei swam dizzily through his head, mixing nauseatingly with thoughts of Mr. Takahashi and a deep, dark sense of guilt. This man _wasn't_ Seimei, wasn't Seimei, wasn't Seimei… and Ritsuka, who suffered no emotional blows when giving in to Soubi's needs, couldn't make sense of the onslaught of regret and revulsion he felt with himself for it.

He had to rinse his mouth out five times before the taste of vomit even partly left his tongue. The tap water tasted only marginally better than the contents of his stomach. Having no desire to see his reflection, Ritsuka avoided the mirror altogether. He knew that nothing pleasant would be staring back at him after what had just transpired.

When he could bring himself to go back into the bedroom, he found Kano standing at the foot of the bed. He was staring at Mr. Takahashi with eyes like stone. Their client appeared fast asleep. Suddenly he let out a humongous snore, and Kano turned away fiercely.

"Let's go, Ritsuka." he said, making for the door.

Ritsuka hurried to catch up to him. He was deathly afraid of being left alone in a place like this with a person like that.

"I thought he wanted to take the aggressor?" Ritsuka asked, just managing to slip out the door after Kano.

"He did. But there was no way I was letting that guy violate either of us that way. So I took care of things."

Alarm bells went of inside Ritsuka's head. They strode down the hall together toward the nearest elevator. "But won't he get mad? What if he tells Soubi? What if Soubi says we duped him and we get -"

"No," Kano interrupted, jamming the button as soon as it was in reach. "We did exactly what we were asked to do. Nothing more and nothing less. We don't get paid to hang around while he naps and wait for him wake up. That was not in the deal. It's NEVER in the deal, and I'm not much of a workaholic. There's tricks like that you can do to get out of a bad situation. You can't always count on them, but most of the time they can save you from truly nauseating experiences."

After that, Ritsuka didn't have any protests. But he was still angry. At SOUBI. And as soon as they got back he planned to really give him a piece of his mind!

Outside in the frigid air, it wasn't until Kano let go of his hand that Ritsuka realized he had been holding it. Kano, it seemed, wanted out of that place just as badly as he did. He hailed a cab with two sharp whistles, shoving Ritsuka in ahead of him. Once inside, he began combing his fingers through his hair.

"Look, Ritsuka," he said. "I know that experience was an awful one. But you should know the majority of the clients are not that disgusting. It's true, a lot aren't attractive, but neither are they difficult to look at. That was abnormally horrible."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" Ritsuka asked, hoping it wasn't, because he certainly didn't. In fact, he was feeling worse by the moment.

"I don't know if it should make you feel better," Kano admitted, softly. "But, Ritsuka, most of our clients are pretty well off financially, and they're wealthy because they have high ranking jobs. And when you have a high ranking job, you CANT be like that revolting creature."

"Where to?" asked the driver suddenly, who had been coasting slowly along the street.

"Shikiko's hideout. The club by the downtown park." He then turned to Ritsuka and added, "I still have some friends from my life before stardom and hookerville and I'm going to meet up with them since it's still early. I'd like you to come with me."

"I can't," said Ritsuka, turning to stare coldly to the forefront. "I have to go scream at Soubi until his eardrums explode. Maybe next time."

Kano was pulling a little tube of toothpaste out of his pocket and squeezing some out on his finger when Ritsuka said this. As soon as the words were out, he paused, looking at Ritsuka with one eyebrow raised. "Why do you want to scream at Soubi?"

Ritsuka snorted. "Why WOULDN'T I? You were there when all of...that...happened." He waved one of his hands vaguely in the direction of the hotel. "Soubi KNEW what he was getting us into. No way that could have been a surprise to him."

Kano blinked, not speaking. He made a small "hmm" sound before using his finger to scrub his mouth. Then he offered the little tube to Ritsuka.

Grateful for anything minty right now, Ritsuka took it eagerly and copied him.

"Ritsuka...this isn't really Soubi's fault," said Kano. "He's a businessman, and a pretty good one at that. He found us a client who didn't hurt us, who agreed to condoms, and who paid well for our services. He can't be expected to only allow the charming ones through. He's got a business to run, after all. And if it weren't for him, you and I would both be homeless, along with the rest of the boys in the House."

"But he doesn't have to be so mysterious about it!" Ritsuka protested. "He could have at least warned us! And he's so smug about everything too - like he's the boss of all of us."

"I hate to break this to you, Ritsuka, but he sort of is." said Kano mildly. "And he's really not in it to make us miserable. He does more good than harm. He's not a bad guy. Kind of hot, too, actually. Tall...long blond hair..."

Ritsuka crossed his arms, pouting openly. So Soubi was an attractive businessman. That gave him the right to subject them to THIS fiasco? "He's completely unfair."

Kano shook his head. "Oh, Ritsuka. But you are still only a child."

"And you're WHAT," Ritsuka sized him up across the the stretch of backseat. "A whole _day_ older than me?"

"Practically. I'm going to tell you something only Soubi knows about me. I had a pimp before him. Trust me when I say that life with Soubi is as close to paradise as a rent boy can hope to get. We get two nights off a week, we get free medical care, free shelter, free food. Plus he gives us ten percent of our earnings. And because we don't have to pay for anything ourselves, that's pocket money. We can go have fun or we can save it up. In fact, I think saving up is exactly what Youji and Natsuo are doing. Hoarders, the both of them."

"Oh, so I guess I'm expected to worship him just because he pays me to do my JOB?" Ritsuka threw back. "And only ten percent at that!"

"You just don't get it at all, do you?" Kano was sounding angry now. Ritsuka didn't think it was possible. "Normal pimps don't pay for ANYTHING for their hookers. They make them buy it all themselves, and the only pay they get is barely enough to survive on. They make SURE their workers can never escape this lifestyle. But Soubi doesn't do that. He makes certain that any one of us can eventually get out. It may not be moral or even legal, what he does, but Soubi cares. He cares, Ritsuka." Here, Kano turned to look out the window, appearing distraught. "That's a hell of a lot more than you can expect from most people. I have a lot of respect for Soubi. And what's more, I like the man. Be angry if you must, but eventually you're going to see how petty you're being right now."

Ritsuka was silent after that, fuming. He didn't understand how Kano could possibly perform sexual favors on a smelly old troll without throwing up and then sit around singing praises to Soubi, the asshole responsible for getting them into this predicament in the first place.

Neither of them spoke a word until the cab came to a stop, and it was Kano who broke the silence.

"Are you coming?" he asked, sounding like he'd at least somewhat cooled off from his rant.

"No," said Ritsuka, and left it at that.

Kano told the driver to put it on Soubi's tab, handing over a card with Soubi's information and credit line code. "And," Kano went on. "Please see that my friend gets home safely. Do not stop and let anyone else in with him. He's too cute to take any chances on."

Ritsuka glanced over at him, half insulted by that and half surprised Kano thought that of him.

"Goodnight, Ritsuka," he said, and closed the door behind him without a backward glance.

* * *

><p>When the cab dropped Ritsuka off at the House, many of the boys were still on the street. Ritsuka scanned the line of them quickly for Kio, Natsuo, or Youji but it seemed that all of them had found customers already. Ritsuka wasn't really disappointed. He had someone else to see tonight — someone with the altruism of a Nazi and the hair of an Afghan Hound.<p>

He slipped past the House doors without making eye contact with any of the boys. From there, Ritsuka stormed straight toward Soubi's office. He had no patience for changing clothes or washing up first. There was an indignant fire burning in his veins and he wanted to make use of it. He had a fight to pick with Soubi Agatsuma and now was the best time to do it.

When Ritsuka reached Soubi's office, the door was firmly closed. He didn't bother knocking; he simply threw it open. "SOUBI!"

Soubi was sitting in his desk chair... and he was shirtless. His long blond hair was flowing over his shoulders. For once, it seemed a little tangled. A few odd strands were out of place here and there, obscuring Soubi's cheekbones. Ritsuka realized that Soubi's ghostly pale skin was actually flushed with pink, and that he wasn't wearing his glasses. But that wasn't the most surprising aspect of the scene. THAT particular honor went to Kio, who was sitting right in Soubi's lap, straddling him. That explained why Ritsuka hadn't seen him out on the street. Kio wasn't out with a customer; he was in here, with Soubi. Working from home, thought Ritsuka wryly. His arms were around Soubi's neck and his shirt looked to be ripped in several places. He was looking at Ritsuka from over his shoulder, smiling in a way that was half sheepish and half proud.

"Hey, Ritsuka," he said, moving to tuck in his shirt (or what was left of it) where it had ridden up the small of his back. Ritsuka saw that his lips were red and swollen.

Soubi's were too. His glasses were on the edge of his desk, looking like they'd been tossed there in a hurry. Soubi picked them up with an unsteady hand. "Ritsuka…" he said, but his voice came out hoarse. He coughed and tried again, putting the glasses back on. "Ritsuka, you're back early."

As if things weren't bad enough, Ritsuka felt a wire of jealousy twanging deep in his gut. How had Kio managed to reduce Soubi to such an embarrassing state, and in what appeared to be such a short amount of time? The man was so infuriatingly blasé all the time it was a wonder he even had blood pulsing through his veins. To affect him this much...

Ritsuka hadn't been able to do it. It sent a new sense of fury coursing through him. "You wouldn't call it early if you had been the one sent to service that... that THING!"

Soubi seemed to have collected himself in an astounding amount of time, for when he spoke again, it was smooth as milk. "Ritsuka is displeased with this evening's client." He spoke thoughtfully, and mostly to himself as he adjusted his glasses on his nose. Then to Ritsuka he said, "Please close the door."

"Why don't you close it yourself?" Ritsuka said, as nastily as he could.

Kio hastened to do it for him, like a service animal. He didn't step out of the room, but he lingered by the door like a shadow.

"What kind of monster are you? To send us in to do such a filthy job and not even have the decency to warn me!"

Soubi was working his arms back into his shirt- long sleeved and white with silver buttons. "It would not do for me to speak ill of my clients. Mr. Takahashi is non-violent and always pays his dues. I never promised you that all clients would be suave and attractive. They cannot all be Seimei Aoyagi." Ritsuka felt himself flush to the roots of his hair in embarrassment and anger. Soubi's eyes narrowed calculatingly. "Can they?"

"That's not the point and you know it!" Ritsuka shot back, more for something to say than because he actually believed it.

"Oh, I think it's very much the point." Soubi replied. Ritsuka got the bizarre feeling that they were having some sort of verbal chess match: two people trying to find a way to both attack and defend at the same time. "Kio had some interesting information for me tonight, concerning Mr. Aoyagi. And concerning you."

"….what information?" asked Ritsuka. He did NOT want to be side-tracked right now, but if it was about Seimei….

"Our illustrious friend came by for you again," Soubi said, buttoning up his shirt. He said 'illustrious' the same way other people said 'child molester.' "This marks the third time in a row….though, I'm sure I don't have to tell you that. When he discovered that you were busy, he left with someone else."

Ritsuka's heart sank. He'd missed Seimei…and not because he was out with a decent client. No. He had been out wasting his time with Taco Grease Takahashi. And now...probably RIGHT now...Seimei was with someone else. The thought made Ritsuka want to throw up again.

"Which is perfectly within his rights," continued Soubi idly. "But, for your own safety, Ritsuka, I think you ought to know….I'm putting you on probation."

"What does that even mean?" Ritsuka's thoughts immediately went to his former residence- The Overpass by Chai's diner. Would Soubi seriously throw him out? He couldn't keep the rising hysteria out of his voice. "You're going to threaten this filthy job just because a client keeps coming back for me? Isn't that a GOOD thing?"

"You misunderstand." Soubi was, quite expectedly, pulling out a cigarette. "You see, Ritsuka..." he paused. "Won't you have a seat?" Ritsuka only lifted an affronted eyebrow, arms crossed. Soubi continued. "You see, Ritsuka, probation is not a punishment. It's protection. I'm concerned about Mr. Aoyagi's unnatural fixation on you. It is not healthy for one of my boys and one of my clients to become attached. It has happened in the past and it has ended badly."

"Who said anything about becoming attached?" Ritsuka said. "He's simply a satisfied customer. I'm bringing in money for you!"

Soubi ignored this. "Although Mr. Aoyagi is my top client, he's very dangerous."

"There is NOTHING dangerous about Seimei! He's kind and gentle and makes me feel— "

"That," cut in Soubi. "is precisely why he's dangerous. He makes people feel. And you aren't to feel for a client, Ritsuka. It's forbidden. If feelings begin to surface, it must be stopped at once."

"What are you saying!?" Ritsuka shrieked, so loudly he sensed more than saw Kio flinch a little. "All the boys like Seimei! They keep count of how many times they've been with him! They'll go with him on their days off!"

"Ritsuka, there's a difference between enjoying a customer and developing feelings for them," Kio said.

Ritsuka whirled on him. "And why isn't it forbidden to develop feelings for your PIMP!?"

This time, Kio did flinch, as if he'd been given a particularly painful slap to the cheek.

"That is none of your concern," Soubi answered.

"That's convenient!" Ritsuka shot back.

Soubi tapped his cigarette ashes into the tray. "You haven't gotten proper training, have you? Mr. Aoyagi swept you right into the action."

"I didn't do anything wrong! Why should I be put on probation?! It's not my fault I'm good at what I do!"

"Of course you didn't do anything wrong," Soubi replied mildly. His voice was one-quarter as loud as Ritsuka's. "Probation isn't a threat to the security of your job, I assure you. This is for your protection. There are clients and there are parasites. Seimei Aoyagi seems to be dangerously close to – "

Ritsuka refused to let him finish that sentence. "He is NOT a parasite! He's your best client!"

"And so he shall remain. I have no doubt that a little time off will clear his head of this…absurdity.

And Mr. Aoyagi may, of course, request your services in the future. For now I feel that restricting your services and giving you some proper training will provide necessary cushioning to this situation."

Without forewarning, Ritsuka's throat constricted. Hot tears burned suddenly beneath his eyes. "Now it's ABSURD for a client to want me multiple times?"

Soubi shook his head. "For Seimei, this is highly unusual and highly suspicious. It may turn out to be as much good for him as it is for you. But that is beyond my responsibility. You are under my care, not him. I must do what is best for you."

"What's BEST for me is to do my job!"

"Oh, you'll still be working," said Soubi with a deadly smile. "Make no mistake about that."

"Mr. Takahashi?" Ritsuka asked in a low, tortured voice. Fat tears were rolling down his cheeks.

Soubi reached out to, from what Ritsuka could tell, either brush away his tears or pull him into an embrace. Either way, he never got the chance because Ritsuka smacked it away. Soubi let his arm drop.

"Mr. Takahashi only calls every few months. We will not hear from him for some time. But, yes, you will be restricted to special orders only. And only those that require another boy to go with you, to help you train. Aside from that, you may spend time with me for other projects. Photographs, perhaps."

No more Seimei…special orders only….no more Seimei….training….photographs….no more Seimei. It was too much. Ritsuka had stormed in prepared to have an argument and nothing more. Now it felt like the rug was being ripped out from under him. He felt like he was suffocating. He couldn't stand to be in this office another minute.

Ritsuka turned away from Soubi without another word, fully prepared to exit just as abruptly as he had entered. Kio was still lingering by the door.

"Ritsuka –" he said, kindly.

Ritsuka shouldered past him and left without listening to whatever it was that he wanted to say. Some small, patient part of him knew that it wasn't really Kio's fault. It was Soubi's. It was always Soubi's. But right now, Ritsuka paid no attention to that part of himself. Kio had facilitated this entire "probation" by telling Soubi about Seimei. As far as Ritsuka was concerned, that meant he could be rude to Kio all he liked. It wasn't as though KIO were the one being kept from SOUBI. It wasn't like Kio knew how Ritsuka felt at all!

There were quickening footsteps catching up behind him as he reached the front door and threw it open. Kio called his name and grabbed for his elbow.

"Ritsuka, it's okay. I know how you feel."

"YOU DON'T KNOW HOW I FEEL!" He yelled, throwing off Kio's arm. He stormed outside, Kio on his heels. "You were just in there making kissy-face with that lunatic, and Seimei's off with one of the other boys and it's all Soubi's fault!"

"He's not with someone else."

Ritsuka stopped short.

...Not with someone...?

He turned around, tears still flowing though his emotions had temporarily frozen.

Kio sighed, reaching up and rubbing his forehead as though he felt a headache coming on. "Look," he said. "I didn't want you to find this out at all, because I don't think it's good for you. But male rent boys are no better than a bunch of old women when it comes to gossip. I'd rather you hear the truth from me than some ridiculous version of it from someone else. I'm sure there's a hundred different sensationalized accounts of it floating around this house by now."

Ritsuka swiped the tears away from his cheeks angrily. "What is it?"

Kio said nothing for a few moments. He just stared at Ritsuka with a look on his face that plainly said he knew he would regret what he was about to say. "Seimei came by tonight, like Soubi said. And he asked for you. Again."

"Kio, Soubi already told me all that, so I don't know what you're playing at and I really don't have time for – "

"But what you don't know is that when Natsuo told him you weren't available, Seimei just left. He politely thanked him, rolled up his window, and JUST LEFT."

Ritsuka was dumbfounded. Just left? Seimei heard he wasn't there and….left?

"Ritsuka, THIS is why I thought it wasn't good for you to know!" Kio suddenly shouted.

"What?" Ritsuka asked, startled. "I didn't say anything!"

"You're smiling! Like Christmas just came early or something! Ritsuka, do NOT become attached to a client – EVER. And ESPECIALLY not Seimei. He's the WORST one you could develop feelings for."

Ritsuka felt anger rushing back to him. "You talk about him like he's a criminal or something! When he first asked for me, YOU'RE the one who said he was nice and considerate and all this stuff!"

"And I meant it, Ritsuka. Seimei Aoyagi is a charming persona and a good fuck. And that's ALL he should be to you."

Ritsuka didn't want to hear this. He sat on the curb and wrapped his arms around his knees, refusing to look at Kio and refusing to move.

Kio sighed again and sat down heavily next to him. "Ritsuka, how do you think Soubi became so callous? DON'T TRUST Seimei Aoyagi. He'll break your heart. I swear he will."

"What does Soubi being callous have to do with anything?" Ritsuka muttered at the ground.

"Soubi and Seimei have….a history. That's all I'm going to say about it. It's not my story to tell. But I know the story, and I know what it did to Soubi, and you don't. Soubi was never the same since. I've been trying for so long to coax him out of it and he just….he's just stuck. Take a lesson from him, Ritsuka. Listen to what people are telling you about Seimei. It doesn't feel like that now, but it's for your own good."

Ritsuka hugged his knees to his chest and pressed his forehead against them. He didn't believe all these things about Seimei. If Soubi got his heart broken, probably it was his own fault. Maybe Seimei had rejected his advances or something because he was Soubi too cold. That wasn't Ritsuka's fault.

"He didn't take anyone else." He muttered into his knees.

"Oh, he took someone else."

Ritsuka's head snapped up. "But you said-"

"I know what I said," Kio cut in. "He left, but he came back and he got someone else. What I said was that he's not with someone else right now, and that's because he has already returned him."

Ritsuka's eyes scanned the throng of boys along the street, face streaked with tears and more starting to sprout up.

"Forget it," said Kio. "I won't tell you who it is."

Ritsuka laid his head back down. "Then leave me alone."

His stomach had knotted up and hot sickness was clouding his vision. Someone else had been with Seimei tonight, and he hated them.

Kio sighed and stood back up. "One day you'll understand we only care about you." And then he went back inside.

_Good riddance_, thought Ritsuka uncharitably, watching him go. Kio was deliberately withholding who Seimei had taken tonight. What did he think Ritsuka was going to do if he told him? Go and fight them? Threaten them with death? Cut their hair off in their sleep so that Seimei would never want to take them back to his place ever again?

"Whoa…somebody's thong is definitely in a twist. Why the long face, Ritsuka?"

Ritsuka looked up at the voice and found Natsuo standing in front of him, arms crossed over his chest and head tilted inquisitively. From his seat on the curb, Ritsuka had to crane his neck to see him properly. Natsuo was dressed in what seemed to be a typical outfit for the boys to wear on the street: a sleeveless, sheer black top and skin-tight dark jeans.

"Don't worry about it," Ritsuka mumbled. He laid his head on his knees to make absolutely sure the message was clear.

Instead of leaving, Natsuo sat down next to him and slung one arm around his shoulders casually. "I was just out getting pounded by a fifty-year-old guy who insisted on being called Luke Skywalker. I had to pretend to be an Ewok. Whatever's going on, it can't be worse than that, right?"

"Mr. Takahashi," Ritsuka muttered.

Natsuo instantly winced and made a sharp hissing sound through his teeth. "I take it back. No one has had a worse night than you and Kano. That's who you went with, right?"

"Yeah."

"He always takes pairs. That's the one saving grace; you never have to deal with him on your own. Cheer up, Ritsuka, it's over with."

"My probation isn't."

Natsuo had been rubbing his back soothingly. He fell still. "Then why are you gloomy? That's like a vacation!"

Ritsuka lifted his head to stare into Natsuo's faced. He looked delighted and slightly envious. "What? How is this a good thing?"

"How is it a bad one?" he countered. "Probation is awesome! All you do is hang around Soubi and watch him make deals and order people around. Sometimes you take on special assignments but it's not every day. How'd you get it?"

"How'd I...?" Rituska started, completely baffled. "Natsuo, I'm being PUNISHED just becasue Seimei Aoyagi asked for me too many times and because Soubi is a jealous-prone control freak. It's not some honorary club membership I've won. I hate this and I hate him!"

Natsuo stared at him, clearly taken aback by the outburst. "Whoa, you really like being a rent boy, don't you? I've never seen anyone get so upset they can't work."

Briefly, Ritsuka debated telling Natsuo exactly why he was upset about not working. Natsuo wouldn't make fun of him for it. He'd just take it all in stride. But then Ritsuka remembered what Kano had said about it being easier to handle having feelings for a client without the rest of the house knowing. If Ritsuka told Natsuo, Natsuo would surely tell Youji, who would talk about it with God only knew who else. No...it was better for Ritsuka to keep his mouth shut about Seimei.

"I don't like being a rent boy," said Ritsuka moodily. "I'm just pissed at Soubi for acting like he can control everything I do. And he didn't even warn me about Mr. Takahashi. He let me go into that BLIND."

"Well...Mr. Takahashi's no picnic, but they're not all enjoyable to be with, Ritsuka." Natsuo said, his tone sounding remarkably similar to Kano. "It's a job, you know? And not really anybody's DREAM job, at that. But it could be worse."

"I don't see how. Whatever. How long is probation supposed to last, anyway? I know SOUBI'S not going to tell me anything."

Natsuo leaned back, resting his weight on his palms behind him. "Well...it varies. Hard to say. I guess it depends on whatever Soubi's reason is for giving it to you." Natsuo laughed abruptly. "He tried to give Youji probation once. Youji told him...well, you can guess what he told him. And then he worked anyway, made double what he usually does, and that was the end of that. Soubi never mentioned it to him again."

A sudden, extremely unpleasant thought crept into Ritsuka's mind. Had they been given probation for the same reasons he had? Did Seimei develop addictions to every one of Soubi's new boys? ...But, no. Soubi had told him that Seimei's behavior was highly unusual. Then again, Soubi was a stealthy bastard. Who knew how much of what he said was the truth and how much was word play?

"Why did he want Youji on probation?"

"For smart-mouthing a client." Natsuo was smirking fondly. "Really, it was Soubi's fault. The client had pre-ordered a pair of cute boys. Soubi assigned the job to us. The word "cute" should have tipped him off that he was looking for young, well-mannered boys. Man- was he surprised by Youji. He's never called back for more services. But Soubi doesn't mind so much. Youji is a money-maker with that sharp tongue of his. You wouldn't believe how many people are into that."

"Like you, I imagine." Ritsuka said, feeling himself smile sadly. Sometimes he wondered if Youji and Natsuo realized how lucky they were to have each other. They seemed so carefree most of the time. So matter-of-fact about being together. Did they know that there were people out there who would kill to have what they had?

Natsuo smiled and laughed. "Yeah. Like me. But don't tell Soubi I said that. Officially, I'm supposed to be encouraging Youji to be more respectful to him. Soubi says I'm the only one who he listens to. But really….it's pretty hot how Youji just says whatever he wants, whenever he wants. So I'm encouraging no such thing."

Ritsuka managed to laugh at that.

"Hey…." Natsuo said thoughtfully. "There's Youji now."

Natsuo's smile grew even wider and he sat up straighter on the curb. His eyes were fixed at a point not far down the street, where a grey SUV was parked. Youji was climbing out of it, looking worn-out but smug. He walked straight up to Ritsuka and Natsuo, neglecting to take a seat on the curb.

"Honey, I'm home," Youji said to Natsuo with a saucy wink. Natsuo laughed and nudged Youji's foot with his own. "How'd it go?"

"The usual. What are you guys doing out here?"

"Ritsuka won't go inside," explained Natsuo. "He hates Soubi."

Youji blinked silently for a few moments at that. Then, he swooped down on Ritsuka and grabbed his face in both hands, kissing him with a loud _smack_. Ritsuka instantly recoiled and pressed the back of his hand to his mouth in shock. His brain felt like it was stuck in neutral.

"That," said Youji. "Was for joining the Soubi Haters Club. I'm the president. Welcome to the organization."

Natsuo snickered. "So, what brought about this loathing, Ritsuka?" asked Youji. He yawned and stretched. Ritsuka heard several of his vertebrae pop loudly. "Did he do something extra pervy to you?"

"He sent me to Mr. Takahashi without warning me first," said Ritsuka dully.

Youji winced. "Ouch."

"And then put me on probation." Ritsuka continued.

"I'd kill for some probation right now," said Youji. "So why'd you get it? What put the fire ants in his underpants?"

"Seimei asked for me too many times in a row."

"Probation for THAT? That's not even your fault! Man, talk about insanely jealous."

….jealous? Ritsuka remembered what Kio told him earlier about Soubi's "history" with Seimei. Did Youji mean that Soubi was jealous of Seimei? Or….could it be that he was jealous of Ritsuka?

"Youji, what do you –"

But Youji cut him off. "It's freezing out here…I'm going to bed. Come on, Natsuo."

"It's still early, though," Natsuo said.

Youji was already heading inside. He spoke over his shoulder as he walked into the House. "If you two want to hang out like gargoyles all night long that's fine with me. I've already had three clients tonight and I'm exhausted. Soubi can suck my dick if he doesn't like it."

Ritsuka stared at Natsuo, who stared right back. Then Natsuo shrugged and stood up, holding out a hand to help Ritsuka up.

As the three of them trudged up the stairs to their room, Ritsuka couldn't help but wonder what Youji had meant. The story that Kio said "wasn't his to tell." And the way that Soubi really, really seemed to keep tabs on Seimei Aoyagi.

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><p><strong>Thank you again for reading! Please review!<strong>

**- Magic Mind and BC3**


	10. Extra: Soubi-- The Scarf

**Authors' Notes: Sooorrrry for the wait between updates! We were in the midst of moving in together. We're hoping this means quicker updates as I now have a much shorter commute to work and school. ^_^**

**Anyways! So this isn't a ****_chapter_**** chapter. We've been talking a lot about the happenings of Seimei and Soubi when Ritsuka isn't there to bear witness. We do NOT want to shift this story to different POVs, but want to stay consistent and keep it with Ritsuka throughout. However, there were so many ideas we were coming up with that we decided it would be really fun to add "Extras" in between chapters. You know, like "Goodnight Baby" in the manga.**

**Now... if you wish to only have Ritsuka's POV, you may skip these extras. They will be clearly labeled as such, so there should be no mistaking them for a chapter. We will have extras from Soubi and from Seimei, and it will give you more insight on whats happening with them.**

**Also, thank you thank you thank you SO VERY MUCH for all the reviews to the last chapter! Its really encouraging and it caused a massive mudslide of ideas for us. We have so many notes, its crazy!**

**So, onward with the first extra of the fic! **

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><p><strong>Extra: Soubi - The Scarf<strong>

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><p>There were three hundred transactions last month, twenty of which were new customers. Soubi was pleased. A vast majority of his clientele were regulars-which served Soubi's purposes just fine. Regulars were dependable, safe, and discreet. Those who made a habit of frequenting a place like Soubi's House laid great plans to hide their actions. But gaining new customers was good in its own way: it allowed Soubi's business to grow. That was his primary goal.<p>

Some regulars, though...some regulars were trouble. Which is why Ritsuka was on probation. Soubi had no shortage of ideas about how to keep him occupied during his hiatus from the streets. There was a new boy that Soubi was scouting for the House...perhaps Ritsuka would be an acceptable mentor for him. And even if he weren't, there were always other tasks to be done. Soubi's House hadn't released a video for quite some time, after all...

He closed the transaction document and opened the file containing profiles. Ritsuka's wasn't very full, but he had a lovely collections of photographs started. The mouse hovered over the slideshow button- he shouldn't do this to himself again. But, nevertheless...

He clicked it quickly, before he wasted his whole evening internally debating about it. Ritsuka was a beautiful child. He so resembled Seimei, it almost painful just to look at him. And yet he found himself unintentionally staring, far more often than he cared to admit. And when Ritsuka smiled... It was nothing short of _torture_ when he smiled.

But he didn't smile often. He possessed none of Seimei's alluring honey-sweet charm. Ritsuka was cautious and reserved and far too gullible for his own good. He carried warmth in his heart but ice like a protective armor. Seimei carried warmth in his voice but ice in his heart.

Ritsuka did possess something of Seimei's, though. Something very odd.

Aoyagi.

It was Ritsuka's last name, and God knew it was Seimei's too. Soubi had been shocked at first, to learn of the similarity. Ritsuka's mother was very conspicuously placing flyers all over town...it wasn't difficult for Soubi to research her, as well as her family. She had no sons but Ritsuka. No daughters either, for that matter. It was an impossibility that Seimei and Ritsuka were brothers, despite their physical resemblance to each other. The rest of the family seemed to be shrouded in a bit of mystery- information was fragmented and inconclusive. But there seemed to be no connection to Seimei, or of anyone of Seimei's age. Ritsuka obviously hadn't known him before his first night on the job, and hadn't seemed at all aware of their similarities.

Photo after photo flashed past Soubi's eyes. Ritsuka sullen, Ritsuka angry, Ritsuka unaware of a camera in his vicinity, Ritsuka withdrawn into himself...there was emotion in his eyes that Seimei never showed. Never. No matter how much Soubi wished for even the barest hint of it...even if it were negative...

Seimei's heart was neither ice nor fire. It was dirt. Soubi once thought that love could grow there...that he could be the one to sow that seed. But Soubi knew now that Seimei's heart was barren soil. Nothing would flourish there. Nothing would bloom.

There was a pure heart-one that beat for Soubi, and Soubi alone. Soubi suspected that love had already grown there, and that it would grow stronger if Soubi could only...

_Kio slid his hands into Soubi's hair, looking up at him with sad, concerned eyes. "Let me take care of you...please. Let me in."_

"_You don't need someone like me. You don't deserve this."_

"_But I do...I really do." Such certainty in Kio's voice. Such longing. He leaned up and kissed Soubi's lips softly._

_An image of black, curly hair. Honeyed words and a smooth smile._

"_You deserve someone whole."_

_Kio brushed a lock of Soubi's hair behind his ear. "You could be whole again."_

Soubi wanted to believe. But even that much felt like a miracle. And that's how Soubi knew that Kio was wrong. He wasn't going to be whole. Not ever again.

Kio was, he had to admit, the person who had kept him going, after everything. There was a time when Soubi felt no longer human, as if Seimei had literally plucked out his heart and taken it away with him. Soubi had been left still physically able to function, but with all his humanity snuffed out-like an automaton.

There were times when Kio could make his dead heart flutter, even pound. But it was always fleeting and, in the end, always stuttered and fell still- a butterfly struggling to keep flight, only to drift inevitably downward, until it fell upon the snow; cold and quiet and hopeless.

Soubi pulled his cell phone from his pocket, which had begun to buzz softly. _Kio_, it read, with a sunny picture of him in the corner. Despite himself, Soubi felt his mouth soften into something that might be considered the beginnings of a smile, but he did not answer. Instead, he closed it into the top drawer of his desk and turned back to the bouquet of Ritsuka photographs.

"Beautiful child," he said to the empty study.

He had considered keeping Ritsuka for his own in the beginning. In all honesty, it kept crossing his mind, even now, when Ritsuka had already begun to work the streets and Kio had dolled him up to sinfully tempting perfection.

He was a second chance, Seimei in miniature; a sweet, cute package that had at first been unwrapped by no one but Soubi.

He kept resisting, though. Ritsuka was a miraculous imprint of Seimei, a lifelike doll of the real thing. But he was NOT the real thing, and for all of Ritsuka's passion he didn't have that drive that Seimei did. He had fire inside of him, but not the iced fire Seimei wielded that made Soubi feel like the perfect victim. He wanted to be claimed, branded, controlled; and Seimei was the only one who could give that to him exactly as he needed it.

Only Seimei.

Hands shaking, Soubi opened the very bottom drawer of his desk. He took from it a scarf in Chrystal Fog Grey. It was soft and worn from so many times of handling it, but it was still in beautiful condition, exactly as it had been the day he had received it.

He pressed it to his face and inhaled; the scent was nearly gone. Something inside him seemed to darken another shade. One day it would fade completely, and Soubi was afraid he would forget altogether what it had been like.

With a resigned sigh-something he would NEVER do around his House Boys-he tucked away the scarf and turned back to the computer. Ritsuka's smile was still heart-stopping adorable, but he clicked it off.

It was too late for him. Ritsuka, no matter how Seimei-like, would never do. And Kio, for all the desire he was able to ignite, wouldn't do either. Soubi had been spoiled for the touch and control of only one. One whose love he still craved.

Seimei.

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><p><strong>Thank you again for reading! Please review!<strong>

**- Magic Mind and BC3**


	11. Extra: Seimei-- The Drive

**Authors notes: another horrendously late update, I know. :( Things have been all over the place (literally at our house!) but we have been making time when we can to write bits here and there and we finally cranked out this Seimei extra! **

**Thank you once again to all our reviewers, and a special thanks to all our followers who haven't given up on us yet! We hope to see you through to the end.**

**Please let us know what you think into this first peek into Seimei's thoughts!**

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><p><strong>Extra: Seimei - The Drive<strong>

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><p><em>It isn't a matter of evidence, or a matter of motive, or a matter of ways and means...it is a matter of...<em>

_it is a matter of..._

_due diligence in the realm of..._

It was a matter of breaking the law, that's what it was. Seimei sighed and dropped his pen in defeat. This was ridiculous. Taking _this _ long on one sentence of a brief? Really? He'd done negligence cases a hundred thousand times. There was absolutely _nothing_ novel about this one. Guilty client, somebody got hurt, that somebody sued, and Seimei was brought in to minimize the damage. Open and shut, just like always. And somehow he couldn't finish this brief.

He leaned back in his desk chair, closing his eyes and massaging his neck.

When Seimei opened his eyes again, he saw outside his office window that the sun was just beginning to set. The sky was a brilliant mix of oranges, reds, pinks, and yellows and it had been a perfectly cloudless day. So much was flawless outside of these four walls. But within them, Seimei could see a hundred imperfections. His desk chair was comfortable - black leather with a high back - but it was getting old, and it wouldn't do for his clients to think that he couldn't afford a newer model. The desk itself was functional but there was a scuff on one of the bottom corners. The curtains were a relic of Seimei's predecessor and had gone out of fashion sometime in the last decade. The carpet should really be taken out and a solid hardwood installed in its place. Even his nameplate could use replacing. Maybe his working environment was to blame for this lapse in productivity. But then, Seimei had never trouble with a brief before.

Hmmm...now that Seimei thought about it, he had thought about changing those curtains before today. Ritsuka had drawn them (quite accurately) in his sketchbook when he'd drawn Seimei's office building. It was amazing that he could copy them so accurately just by looking at them. Ritsuka's sketches were truer to life than much of the "art" Seimei saw in galleries around the city.

What Seimei really needed a night off. Tonight he'd go back to Soubi's House. Ritsuka...Seimei would take him out again. He'd have another pleasurable, exhausting night. And then he'd come back to the brief with a fresh mind. Simple solution.

It was too early for any of the boys to be out yet, but that worked in his favor. He had just enough time for a bath and change of clothes. By the time he crossed the city, it would be about time for them to come out. Ritsuka was a cute one, and he wasn't liable to be left standing on The Street for long.

Seimei paused minutely, staring down at his cell phone. He wondered if perhaps he should call in a last minute order, just to secure his plans for the night- then thought better of it. Orders were placed directly through Kio, but in the evenings there ran a risk of the call being re-routed to Soubi, and Seimei preferred their contact be kept to electronic bank transactions and nothing more. Things tended to become tense and a trifle complicated otherwise.

He pulled on his jacket and took up his briefcase, leaving the light on behind him. It was on a sensor and would dim out in three minutes. Besides, he didn't pay the electric bill for this building.

Not a hundred yards from the elevator, a familiar figure with long vanilla hair stepped out of the shadows, as if he'd been waiting.

"Why, Seimei," said the man, calmly. "leaving so early?"

He had been Seimei's mentor during college. He had been the one to introduce him to Soubi, all those years ago.

Ritsu Minami.

He was a celebrated prosecutor, and he taught Seimei everything he knew. And then Seimei surpassed him-in clients, in skill, in cases. Viciously heated when pitted against each other in the courtroom, cordial outside it, not even Seimei was sure if Ritsu was best considered friend or foe.

"Only a temporary leave," replied Seimei with a smooth smile. "I'll be back again later tonight."

Ritsu sighed, stepping onto the elevator with Seimei. "So will I. A lawyer's work is never done."

They made polite small talk on the ride down. If he were being honest with himself, Seimei would have to admit that his mind was only half on the conversation. Mostly he was concerned with his plans for the evening - and whether Ritsuka enjoyed champagne and strawberries.

As they neared the double doors that marked the building's exit, Ritsu asked casually, "So you'll be having dinner before you return?"

Seimei was well aware that lawyers bore a reputation for dishonesty, and truthfully it _would _have been easy to lie to Ritsu: to say that yes, he was having dinner on his brief hiatus from work this evening. But Seimei didn't fancy telling a lie if it wasn't strictly necessary.

"Only planning on spending a relaxing few hours at the apartment, really," Seimei answered. Sex _was_ relaxing, he reasoned to himself. Relaxing to his mind, at any rate.

As far as Seimei knew, Ritsu was completely unaware of Soubi's profession, as well as completely unaware that Seimei partook of the….fruit of his laborers.

Ritsu nodded. "Well, if I don't see you later, enjoy your evening, Seimei."

"And you yours." Seimei said, nodding back.

On the way to his Rolls Royce, Seimei made a mental note to shower after taking Ritsuka back to Soubi's house instead of before. It wouldn't do for Ritsu to smell sex on him, since they would apparently be seeing each other again.

Maybe Seimei would shower just _before _taking Ritsuka back, and they could have one together. The thought was so deliciously fun that he found himself smirking all the way across the city.

As he neared The House, the smirk broke into an all out grin. He had made perfect timing. Just as he idled to a stop along the curb, the door swung open and the boys began pouring out in their skimpy, flashy outfits.

Seimei didn't have any favorites, but he did only make rounds with about three-fourths of the boys. There were a good handful that were simply too brutish for his taste. Most of them, though, were cute and obedient.

"You look every bit the creeper that you are. Looking for some hot tail, you pervert?"

And then there was Youji, who was cute and scored about a negative two-fifty on the obedience scale.

Seimei glanced up at his mischievous expression. He was licking suggestively at a purple lollipop, which Seimei was sure he only had for the express purpose of attracting clients.

Seimei smiled ever-so-pleasantly at him. Youji had a smart mouth on him but Seimei's was smarter. "That's precisely why I'm here, yes, Youji. Hot tail. So where is he? Ritsuka, I mean."

Youji's lollipop dipped slightly, his eyes narrowing. "Very funny, Seimei. You don't want this hot piece of ass? I know ten others who do."

And with that, Youji stalked just fifteen feet over, where a nondescript blue sedan was parked. He barely spoke to the driver before hopping into the passenger seat and pausing just long enough to give Seimei the bird before the car pulled away.

Seimei laughed to himself. He and Youji had agreed long before that social pleasantries and politeness would not do between them. Ever since, their exchanges were short, biting, and sometimes left marks. (Large ones, usually on Youji's hips.)

Seimei turned his attention to the The Street again, scanning the boys for the one with black hair, violet eyes, and a body that could stop traffic.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the Aoyagi extraordinaire," a lisping, perky voice said.

Seimei turned to look out of his driver's side window to find Kio, who was leaning against the window frame, arms folded neatly over each other.

"Here to sample someone with piercings in interesting places?" Kio asked, turning his head to show off the row of silver hoops up and down his ear lobe.

"Tempting as the offer is, I have a particular taste this evening for something Ritsuka-flavored."

Kio's face took on the look of a startled parrot; his green hair seemed to puff with agitation, and even his voice sounded like a frantic squawk. "Ritsuka? For the third night in a row?!"

"He's a simply divine addition to Soubi's collection. Is it my fault one taste reeled me in for seconds and now thirds?"

"And what next?" Kio said, practically flapping with rising hysteria. "Fourths? Fifths? What happened to your no favorites policy?"

"It was self-inflicted. I created the policy; I can amend it."

Kio's jaw dropped, then he snapped it up again. "Well," he said, in an overly-huffy but attempted dignified manner. "I'm afraid you'll have to rethink your preference for the night because that flavor is sold out."

Seimei blinked.

"Sold out?"

"Sold out. Busy. Taken. Unavailable. Capiche?"

"Well, who took him? When did he leave? Is he coming back tonight?"

"I can't tell you that, I shouldn't tell you that, and I have no idea."

There was a roaring in Seimei's ears. Something black and fuzzy was closing in on his vision, reducing it to an ever-shrinking circle. Ritsuka. Not here.

"Uh, earth to Seimei? Earth to Seimei?" Kio asked, waving one bejeweled hand in front of Seimei's face. "Anybody home?"

Seimei blinked several times rapidly. "My apologies, Kio. I'm here. I….well…I suppose that's that, then." He shifted the Rolls into drive.

"Wait, you're leaving? There are at least ten other choices right there." Kio said, waving one hand vaguely behind him, indicating the other boys on the curb.

"And I'm sure they're quality-"

"Even _I'll _go with you tonight and you know I don't really work the streets much."

Seimei didn't even pause. "I do have work to attend to, however. Briefs and such…Have a good evening, Kio."

He shifted into drive and peeled away from the curb, not even casting a single glance to witness Kio growing smaller in his rearview mirror, flailing around in complete shock.

Seimei had driven ten miles before realizing he didn't really know where he was going. By instinct, he had taken the highway, and now endless stretches of road yawned out ahead, waiting for the Rolls wheels to squeal over them. Belatedly Seimei registered the fact that he was not only driving aimlessly, but also speeding.

He pressed harder on the accelerator. The engine roared and Seimei felt a savage rush of adrenaline. He was well over 100 miles per hour now, whipping past every other car on the highway, buildings and sidewalks nothing but a blur in his windows.

A sharp pain started in his jaw, and he realized he was clenching his teeth. He checked himself, noting he also had a death grip on his steering wheel, all the bones popping out of the back of his hands from the strain. His stomach was roiling, in knots, sinking.

_Jealousy_.

The word glinted across his mind like the sun hitting a coin half-buried in water and beach sand. Jealousy was not an emotion he felt often. It was, in fact, something he hadn't felt since he was a young child. It was a wasted, rusted feeling. There was nothing in Seimei's life he was afraid of losing anymore, nothing he begrudged anyone else.

But when he thought about Ritsuka with someone else, being _touched _by someone else…

Seimei ran a red light without even seeing it, blinded by the overwhelming fire raging up inside himself. He screeched to a halt when he came to a dead-end, cranking his tires to the left. It made a half-spin, sliding on dirt and gravel, and came to a rest in a cloud of dust.

He stared out the windshield, unseeing, images of Ritsuka-nervous and adorable and shy-smiling and opening up and warming up to some disgusting, undeserving fool of a client from Soubi's special list.

Seimei let his head drop to the steering wheel, boneless. He should have realized the Rolls horn would blare after that. He didn't. The sound was loud and jarring, sending all of his whirlwind thoughts to an abrupt stop.

Seimei didn't bother to straighten up. What was he doing here? What was happening to him?

Arguable rudeness. Aimless driving. _Reckless_ driving. Jealousy?

This wasn't Seimei. None of that was. Seimei needed to stop and _think_ for one second here. Who was he becoming? And why? Ritsuka - no, scratch that - one of Soubi's employees (there, that was better, wasn't it?) unavailable for a single night and Seimei reacts like a lover scorned?

It was a overreaction, and a ridiculous one at that. Seimei was being ridiculous. Ritsuka was free to service anyone he pleased to, just as any other of Soubi's employees. Seimei shouldn't have assumed he would be available, gallivanting off when he knew full well Soubi had other clients. Furthermore, Seimei shouldn't have thrown the equivalent of a temper tantrum and refused to take another of Soubi's perfectly viable alternatives.

Seimei was a headstrong, determined individual. That was all. He'd had it in his head that Ritsuka would be the one he took tonight, his plans were foiled, and he didn't take the unexpected interference well. End of story. All driven people were like that.

So it really wasn't the big deal his irrational heart made him feel like it was.

It wasn't like the evening was unsalvageable though. Seimei still had plenty of time before he needed to return to work. He should just go back to The Street and cut his losses.

And if some nagging sensation in his gut told him the loss would still be there, well…Seimei had endured worse.

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><p><strong>AN: Magic says thank you once again to all the reviewers and followers!**

**TO BE CONTINUED….**


	12. Chapter 10

**Authors note**: We haven't given up! And we haven't lost our enthusiasm for this fandom or this fic! So, here's the proof that we HAVE been working! A nice, long, full-length chapter!

As always, we want to thank everyone who has stuck with us so far, patiently awaiting our embarrassingly long take between updates. A special thanks goes out to everyone who has taken the time to review! Your feedback is greatly appreciated!

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><p><strong>Chapter 10<strong>

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><p><em>Seimei… I've been on probation 5 days already. Have you forgotten about me?<em>

In some corner of himself, Ritsuka had found this new worry sprouting. Resentment toward Soubi's decision had given way to a softly kindling desperation. This could last weeks; MONTHS. And how much of an impression had Ritsuka made on Seimei, anyway?

One prostitute. He was only one in a line-up of forty or so. A single boy who was much too scrawny and much too inexperienced to be anything special in this kind of business.  
>But he just couldn't let go of the hope that Seimei had finally found in him a favorite, even if during his absence Seimei took up with the other boys as was his custom. Kio wouldn't tell him if Seimei had even be by, let alone who he took. Part of Ritsuka was relieved. Part of him didn't want to know.<p>

This morning he had woken up early. Not because he was reverting back to his old schedule-oh, no. He would be ready to stay with Seimei all night the moment he got the chance again. It was simply that he had too much going on in his head to sleep. He had tossed all night, getting fragments of broken dreams and nightmares whenever an inch of sleep found him, and finally he gave up trying around 8am.

After dressing slowly, he took to roaming about, haunting the hallways like a ghost for some 20 odd minutes now, destination undetermined. He ran his hand over the gold and white wallpaper as he went along, pausing minutely to look out a window or peek into a mysterious looking room every so often. Soubi's House was a lot bigger than he had imagined. And nice.

Yeah, it was a pretty nice place to live even if you couldn't tell from the outside. Even now it didn't feel like a jail. He wasn't imprisoned within the walls anyway; probation, as it turned out, didn't mean he was on lock-down. But it created another problem: he didn't know what he was going to do today.

He was supposed to be helping Soubi, but he'd refused to go anywhere near that man the first two days, and after that Soubi had simply stopped trying. A curious thing, too; Ritsuka was waiting to be booted out, but Kio kept telling him that Soubi liked him too much to ever do that.  
>The thought made Ritsuka snort out loud. He was sure Soubi must really hate him to torment him like this.<p>

From somewhere behind him, the now-familiar voices of Natsuo and Youji sounded faintly, growing louder by the second. Ritsuka paused at the top of the staircase, hand on the railing, and turned to wait for them. When they appeared around the corner, Ritsuka could see they were both in pajamas- long sleeved, matching pants numbers in blue for Youji and purple for Natsuo. Youji's had a cute puppy face on the shirt pocket and Natsuo's had a teddy bear that covered the whole front.

For not the first time, Ritsuka wondered if the cutesy things they wore and the stuffed puppies they sometimes carried around were some kind of ploy to trap unsuspecting persons into believing they were sweeter than was fully the truth. But for what reason, Ritsuka couldn't imagine, and he was pretty sure he was better off that way.

"Morning, Ritsuka," said Natsuo.

"Where are you sneaking off to at this godforsaken hour of the morning?" Youji cut in.

"It's 9 am," Ritsuka pointed out.

Youji made an noise caught somewhere between disbelief and annoyance. "We could have slept another hour or two."

"I'm going back to bed," said Natsuo, then paused, snapping out his arm to halt Youji. "Wait! I smell something."

Youji and Ritsuka sniffed reflexively. It was sweet and doughy and made Ritsuka's stomach rumble.

Youji cried out in joy. "KIO'S MAKING PANCAKES!" And bolted down the stairs.

"Wait!" Screamed Natsuo, running after him. "I want some too!"

"I'll share mine with you!" Youji called back, and then they were both gone.

Ritsuka hesitated for a moment. Soubi might be down there. Then again, why should he go hungry just to prove a point? Soubi already knew Ritsuka was mad, so screw him.

"Guys, wait up!"

They didn't, of course, and were crowded around Kio at the stove when Ritsuka entered. There were a few other boys at the table- Ritsuka had been introduced to probably everyone at this point, but just like school, they all had their own groups they stuck by. A few of them smiled and said good morning as he tried his best to be invisible and cross the oversized kitchen to Kio.

Soubi was just outside the large sliding doors by the banquet-sized dining table (necessary for so many boarders), sipping from a mug and looking through papers. He didn't seem to notice Ritsuka just inside as he slipped in behind Natsuo.

"I want chocolate chips in mine," Youji demanded.

Kio made a disgusted noise. "Who says these are for you?"

"Me."

"You're already making some," said Natsuo, who seemed to be the voice of reason between the two.

"Alright fine. But I'm only making them plain."

"I want chocolate chips!"

"Natsuo not sweet enough for you?" Kio said, smirking cruelly. It really didn't suit him.

"That's such a lame thing to say," said Youji. "Sex and food are completely different things. Love and sex are different. Food and love are different."

Ritsuka's mind was reeling at the "love and sex are different" part. It made him feel a little queasy that he was beginning to understand exactly how that could be.

"Why would you even compare the two? I have sugar in the bedroom and now I want it on my plate."

"You're such a brat," said Kio.

"I want some too," said Natsuo.

"Fine, fine. And would you like a heart-shaped spray of whipped cream on top while I'm at it, dear sirs?"

Youji smiled triumphantly. "Whipped cream would be great. But you don't have to make it in the shape of a heart. It's not like we're picky or anything."

Kio sighed in a long-suffering way, and Natsuo laughed. Ritsuka figured this sort of exchange must not be new for them. Maybe they always asked for special things, and maybe Kio always indulged them, even if he acted like it was a huge chore. Kio really was a caretaker for the boys, Ritsuka thought to himself. It didn't seem like he got enough thanks for it.

"Ritsuka?" asked Kio, looking up from the stove. "I'm already making chocolate-chip ones for these two..._individuals_. Do you want some too?"

Ritsuka nodded. He didn't want to bother Kio but he was hungry...and it wasn't like Kio wasn't already making food, so...

"Then would you mind being my special helper? We'll need to get out some more plates and all the sweets."

Ritsuka didn't mind helping Kio at all, but being the designated "special helper" had him feeling a bit indignant. He wandered to the oversized refrigerator feeling distinctly eight years old, with the vague recollection of helping his mother in the kitchen. The memories weren't pleasant ones. Cracked eggs on the floorboards, spilt tea, a knot the size of a walnut on the crown of his head. He rubbed at the spot now, seeing the blood drip off his bangs in his mind's eye.

"Are you hurt?" asked Natsuo, popping up behind him.

Ritsuka started and yanked his hand down. "No... just thinking too hard."

"Thinking isn't my specialty either," said Youji.

Kio snorted. "We knew that without the announcement."

"I'll help you find things," said Natsuo, handing Ritsuka the can of whipped cream.

Youji yanked it away, tilting his head back with the clear intention of spraying the contents into his mouth. Kio snatched it up, straightening his glasses with calm superiority.

"Wait until you are served. Now, why don't you make yourself useful for once and take these to Soubi?" He was a holding a plate of plain pancakes, the syrup on top forming a heart with a smiley face in the middle. The pat of butter that served as a nose was beginning to slide off center.

Youji opened his mouth, as if to retort, but Kio cut him off. "Just hand him the plate or you don't get any."

Youji tore away the plate from his hands and stomped toward Soubi, muttering colorful profanities beneath his breath. Ritsuka saw him pick off the butter and flick it into a bowl of cereal one of the other boys was eating.

"He can't do anything without rebelling _somehow_, can he?" Ritsuka asked.

Kio shook his head. "It certainly seems like he can't." He poured more batter into a huge frying pan in front of him, making several small circles. Ritsuka watched as the bubbles surfaced around the edges.

"Soubi has the right idea - ignore his antics," Kio continued. "It's his natural reaction."

Ritsuka looked over at Soubi again, finding that Youji was shoving the plate of pancakes under his nose unceremoniously. It looked like a few words were exchanged, and then Youji stomped off with a look of distaste, while Soubi was left smiling to himself.

Ritsuka turned back to Kio, who was also watching Soubi. Kio's expression was unreadable. There was a particular gleam in his eye, though...the only thing Ritsuka could tell for sure about it was that it was a mark of great interest.

"Kio..." he finally had to say. "The pancakes are burning."

Kio jumped and immediately flipped them all. The damage seemed minimal - just a too-dark browning in the middles; but Kio still grumbled beneath his breath, too quietly to tell if he was actually cursing.

"He doesn't want them." Youji clanked the plate onto the countertop so carelessly Ritsuka was sure it would leave a crack, or at least a chip, in the corelle. "Apparently he's swallowed so much cum since last night he couldn't possibly eat another bite. _Natsuo's_ cum. Which I know for a fact is NOT TRUE."

"Then why are you so upset?" Ritsuka asked.

Youji's amethest eyes locked onto his. "What?"

"If you know it isn't true, then why do you let him get to you?"

"Because it's immoral to talk about someone else's property that way. That's why. He's being a bastard on purpose."

"Property?" Ritsuka felt indignant on Natsuo's behalf.

"You can't OWN a person! That's so-"

"Hot," Said Natuso. He had been listening at the adjacent countertop while pouring a ridiculous amount of syrup over a stack of pancakes. The whipped cream topping it was not in the shape of a heart like Soubi's rejected stack, but resembled a rather explicit and surprisingly accurate design of the male anatomy. "Of course I'm his property. I even have a tattoo of ownership printed across my-"

"We don't need to know this." Kio cut in, waving the spatula at them. "You already know this."

"But RITUSKA doesn't."

"I think it's kind of sweet," Ritsuka admitted, half reluctantly. He wasn't sure Youji and Natsuo would appreciate being called sweet, but it seemed at least to sate Youji's foul temper.

"Damn straight it is," he said, and smirked at the whipped cream display on the pancakes Natsuo handed to him.

Kio passed Natsuo a second plate and snapped at them both to go away before his sick headache came back. "I swear, Ritsuka," he said, shaking whisps of green hair out of his eyes. "Those two are by far the most difficult part of my job. If it wasn't for them, I would almost have it made."

"Just almost?" The newest set of batter started to bubble in the pan.

Kio indicated the bag of chocolate chips with a point of his finger, and Ritsuka scooped up a handful and began dropping them into the pancakes in a spiral pattern.

"Just almost. I rarely work the streets and only do voluntarily when I need to keep my mind off things, primarily Soubi when he has one of the boys in his office while I'm at home." Kio paused to sigh. "I have all the money I want and I enjoy making you boys look presentable for clients. I'm good at it and it's fun for me."

Rituska watched him flip the pancakes, revealing perfectly golden circle with lightly crisped edges. His stomach rumbled impatiently.

"There's little flaws here and there, but it isn't anything I can't deal with."

Ritsuka hesitated a moment before speaking, choosing his words carefully. "Kio? Are you and Soubi more than friends? More than... more than what he uses the other boys for?"

Kio's expression was a peculiar mixture of pain and pleasure, but at the very least, he didn't look put out by the inquiry. "It's complicated," he said after a measured pause. He pressed down the spatula firmly against each pancake, making the sound of frying hiss a little louder as he did. "He keeps me at an arm's length very deliberately. I tolerate it because I know the reason for that is because if he didn't, we WOULD be together. He feels something for me, I'm sure of that. The problem lies within his past."

"Because of Seimei." Without meaning to, Ritsuka said Seimei's name with an edge of longing and tenderness.

Kio peered at him over the top of his glasses. His voice was a touch sharper when he spoke. "You'll do well to remember why you are on probation right now. Wipe that melancholy, love-sick look off your face and do me a favor." He picked up the plate of pancakes Youji had dropped onto the counter, the whipped cream heart now melted completely. "Take this to Soubi and make him eat it."

"I can't MAKE him do anything, Kio," Ritsuka protested as he took the plate. "He gives ME the orders, remember?"

"That doesn't matter. He LIKES you, Ritsuka. It may be for all the wrong reasons, you being the spitting image of Seimei and all, but he's particularly fond of you. He's been sulking ever since your probation begun and hasn't eaten enough to keep a mouse alive. He'll listen to you, Ritsuka. Please."

Kio's eyes were a sharp leaf green, big and wide and pleading behind glass circles. Ritsuka sighed and turned to take the plate to Soubi, who was still sitting with his nose buried in a log book.

At first, he didn't look up; Ritsuka knew he wasn't really reading anything on the page because his eyes weren't moving. He resolved not to say a thing and wait until the impossible jerk acknowledged him first. Small victories, after all.

It took a few seconds, but Soubi's jaw finally hardened slightly.

"If I've told you once..." his voice trailed off when he looked up, and his expression softened into something akin to wonder. "Ritsuka. Good morning."

"It's not a good morning," he replied, bluntly. "Even so, breakfast is important." He thrust out the plate. "Chow down."

Soubi glanced at the contents of the plate for a fleeting half-second. "I've already told Youji-"

"That you've ingested too much cum since last night and couldn't possibly have another bite." Ritsuka said this with his eyes raised to the heavens, exasperation oozing out in a huff of breath.

He was a little surprised how much the information DIDN'T bother him. Wasn't it just last week he felt a stab of resentment toward Kio for having such a profound physical affect on the pervert? Now he just wanted to get back to the table and eat his pancakes and didn't give two blue marbles whose cum was occupying Soubi's stomach right now.

Soubi closed his book and set it aside. "The story doesn't have any truth to it. The reason I-"

"I don't care," Ritsuka cut in. "All I know is that you haven't been eating enough to keep a mouse alive for days now and it isn't healthy. You're wasting away to skin and bones."

The corners of Soubi's mouth quirked upward, just slightly, and his eyes seemed to melt. "Are you worried about me, Ritsuka? I was under the impression you despised me and wished multiple forms of harm and misfortune to rain down upon my person."

"Just because I'm mad at you doesn't mean I want you to get sick or die," Ritsuka snapped. "Besides, Kio made this specially for you. He does a lot of things specially for you and you don't seem to appreciate any of it. The least you can do is eat his stupid heart-shaped pancakes."

Soubi took the plate first, then the fork Ritsuka held out to him. "I'll try my best."

"You'll eat them all, and you'll like it. That's an order." He stomped away, back to Kio, who held out a plate of chocolate chip pancakes with a smiley swirled on top in whipping cream.

"He's eating it!" He said, practically squeeing in joy. "And he's smiling! Ritsuka, I would hate your guts if I weren't so relieved for his well-being."

Ritsuka smiled tiredly and took his plate to the table, sitting at the far edge.

Soubi, he noticed, was actually eating his food. Kio had pulled up a chair next to him and was chatting away while taking delicate bites of what looked like a fruit and yogurt parfait. Figured: A fattening breakfast for the rest of them and something light and healthy for himself. But that was okay; Kio didn't indulge them often or Ritsuka would be suspicious of a conspiracy. That in mind, he turned to his own plate and dug in.

It didn't take more than two bites for him to appreciate exactly why Youji and Natsuo had practically tumbled over each other in their haste to get to the kitchen earlier. Kio's artistic flair absolutely did not end at the easel or his chrome-cased nail design kit. This man had the ability to change anything he touched into magic.

Ritsuka closed his eyes and actually moaned as another bite of pancake melted on his tongue, the perfect blend of crispy-fluffy-sweet-buttery filling his mouth. Kio was amazing, and Ritsuka was pretty sure if he were a lesser person he'd develop a ridiculous crush on him for his culinary abilities alone. Soubi must really be an idiot.

Ritsuka had never indulged purely in the sense of taste before, but he closed his mind to everything and took a vacation from his thoughts with the rich flavors of breakfast heaven. The problem was that he was quickly becoming full, and he wasn't sure he had the willpower-or the desire, for that matter-to lay down his fork. He'd made his way about halfway through, but they were enormous, taking up an entire dinner plate and stacked five high, and his stomach was beginning to stretch and hurt.

"Aw, man." Kano slunk into the chair beside his, tousle haired in a plain shirt and blue checked boxers. As usual he looked too handsome to be allowed, especially in that state. "I missed Kio's cooking again."

Ritsuka wordlessly shoved over the remainder of his pancakes, dropping his fork onto the plate in the process.

"Ritsuka, you don't have to -" Kano protested, beginning to push the plate back.

"My stomach's going to explode if I eat another bite," argued Ritsuka. "And if you hadn't come along, I would have done just that. You're doing me the favor, honestly."

He let his forehead drop onto his folded arms on the table, feeling overfull and sleepy. There was also something about the image of Kano that made Ritsuka's belly ache. Probably because the image of Kano called forth images of Mr. Taco Grease Takahashi.

"Well. Thanks, Ritsuka." said Kano. There was a warm, too-tender smile on his face when he spoke the words. He didn't waste another second before tucking in. Ritsuka could hear him chewing from the first bite. It was loud and ravenous. Kano ate like a man half-starved, which Ritsuka found to be strange. The food was free in Soubi's house. Why was he so hungry?

Ritsuka picked his head up just enough to see, and he noticed that Kano looked thinner than he had the last time Ritsuka had seen him. And he was already thin to begin with.

"Kano?"

"Yes?" He said, musically. Though he swallowed before speaking, he immediately pushed another bite past his teeth.

"Is everything alright?"

Kano looked over at him, his chewing slowing, and raised his eyebrows in a show of inquiry.

"It's just, you're look thinner since I saw you last. I hope you haven't been sick."

"You're looking thinner, too." Kano poked him playfully in the stomach. "Residual side effect of the horrendous evening we spent with dear Mr. Takahashi, no doubt."

Ritsuka covered his stomach with both hands. "Ugh, don't remind me."

"Good thing you get some probation time, right? That's what I heard anyway."

Ritsuka nodded. "Does everyone know why?"

Kano laughed, then paused to take a few gulps of the milk he had brought with him to the table. "There's all kinds of rumors floating around. The most ridiculous one is that Soubi got you pregnant."

"WHAT!?" Heat flushed Ritsuka's face, the brush of humiliation and anger. "That's the most ridiculous piece of-"

Kano yanked him down by the arm. He hadn't even realized he had shot up. "Ritsuka, no one believes it, even if it is being whispered in the halls."

Ritsuka sat down with a soft flump, eyes darting around self-consciously. He might have over-reacted there but so what? The thought of Soubi knocking anyone up - much less Ritsuka - was enough to freak anyone out. Soubi as _father_.

Ritsuka shuddered.

Kano stuffed another bite of pancake into his mouth. "These are amazing. Anyway, mostly people are saying it's about Seimei."

Ritsuka went into an abrupt coughing fit, clutching at his chest and trying to stop his eyes from watering.

Kano thumped him on the back a few times with one hand and continued to shovel pancakes into his mouth with the other. He swallowed hugely and continued, "I haven't really heard anyone say what ABOUT Seimei is the problem, but they all pretty much say he's involved somehow."

Finally managing to get himself quiet again, Ritsuka rubbed at his nose and muttered, "It's not Seimei's fault."

"I know. Obviously, it's Soubi's fault. He's the one who dished out the 'punishment,' although usually it's more like a vacation. From what I've pieced together, Seimei isn't at fault but he is the REASON for all of this. Soubi has a jealous streak when it comes to certain issues, and you're certainly an issue with him. I've never seen him dote so hopelessly on one of the boys before. The fact that there's something dark and sinister in Soubi's past linking him to Seimei, coupled with the rather curious favoritism Seimei's been heaping on you, and Soubi's favoritism of you himself... well, it's not hard to see that Soubi had a raging tantrum about the possibility of uprising feelings between the two of you and decided to severe the connection."

Blinking stupidly, Ritsuka could only stare. "You figured all that out on your own? Through pregnancy rumors?"

Kano grinned. "I have my ways. I know more about the going on's around here than probably even Soubi and Kio do combined. I'm right, aren't I? About Seimei?"

As far as Ritsuka knew, Kano had never lied to him. He didn't see a reason to return that honesty with anything less - especially since lying wasn't going to him back to Seimei.

"Yeah...you're right." Ritsuka sighed. He wished he had another plate of pancakes in front of him, if only for something to play with to keep his hands busy. Kano had demolished the rest of his original stack. There was nothing left but crumbs.

Kano nodded quietly. "That's hard. Emotional connection to clients. It's never happened to me before, but..." Kano shrugged elegantly, making the gesture seem commiserating, not indifferent.

Ritsuka didn't know what to say to that, so he stayed silent.

"If it's any consolation," Kano went on. "I found something that might be of interest to you."

Though he knew he shouldn't, Ritsuka felt himself perk up a bit. Kano knew how he felt about Seimei, and that's basically all he knew about Ritsuka. As far as he was aware anyway. Maybe it was about him; maybe Kano knew which boys Seimei had been taking home! He felt a part of himself retreat, like a sand crab startled back into its shell. Did he REALLY want to know? And what would he do with the information if he did?

"But not here," Kano went on. "Not now. We're being watched by Soubi, rather creepily if I do say so myself."

Ritsuka glanced in Soubi's direction. Kio had gone, but Soubi was still there, steady in the cloud of smoke veiling him. He was holding up his log book as if reading it, but one violet eye was visible around the right side. His expression, though Ritsuka could only see half his face, was dark and calculating. It sent a chill down his back.

"Later on," Kano said, snapping him back to his immediate vicinity. "maybe we'll happen to meet up in the hallways. There can't be certain time because Soubi's schedule is maddeningly unpredictable. But try to wander by my room a few times this afternoon."

There were a few breaths before Ritsuka could make up his mind about whether or not to trust Kano. On the one hand, he was inviting and warm and friendly and Ritsuka felt comfortable around him, which not a lot of people made him feel. At the same time, he was beginning to see a pattern: Kano was charming, clever, and cunning. It was a dangerous combination if there ever was one. He had gotten a kiss out of Ritsuka within two seconds of meeting, he had tricked Mr. Takahashi out of what he had paid a hefty price for, he had figured out the situation with Seimei, and he knew Soubi was watching them even though he had never so much as glanced in that direction the whole duration of their conversation.

Kano could be an incredible ally, that was for sure; he could also be the worst mistake Ritsuka ever made if it turned out Kano took no ally's and would eventually turn on him.

But for once, Ritsuka was just too heartsick to care.

"Okay," he finally said. "This afternoon."

He looked back up at Soubi, at the curious violet eye. For a moment their gazes locked, and then Soubi drew back behind his book, disappearing completely.

* * *

><p>It had become something of a custom for Soubi to seek out Ritsuka personally every hour or so from about 10 AM until 2 PM in an attempt to get him to cooperate with part of the probation rules, which was a laundry list of errands and light office duty.<p>

So far Ritsuka had studiously ignored him, flat-out told him 'no', and invented a multitude of ridiculous excuses that he knew for certain Soubi would know was pure cheek; things like, "I'd like to help you, but I'm not allowed to offer my services to anyone more than once and I've worked for you before," or "I don't talk to creepy older men."

Soubi would then walk away without a word, only to return again the next hour in a new attempt to persuade him.

Today was different, though, and it was almost scary. Ritsuka had taken his sketchpad to the back garden and was creating a careful outline of Seimei's hands. He was sure when he closed his eyes that he was remembering them accurately: the soft, warm palms and strong fingers with smooth, blunt nails clipped short and straight. But he couldn't focus as deeply as he would have liked since he was expecting every moment to be interrupted by Soubi's low, serene voice.

Only it never happened.

Ritsuka took lunch on the patio with Kio-take out bento boxes of steamed rice, spring rolls, and lemon chicken that Soubi had apparently ordered for all the boys from the depths of his office. His behavior was peculiar, avoidant and yet oddly cheery and Ritsuka couldn't figure out why.

He decided to count his blessings and stop worrying about Soubi and his strange behavior. Maybe it had just been the pancakes that had him feeling generous and anyway it was ideal if he wanted to meet up with Kano.

When the common areas began to quiet as the boys found places to nestle in and nap for the afternoon, Ritsuka found himself quite nervously approaching Natsuo. Youji was present, but had his head in Natsuo's lap with his eyes closed while Natsuo read what appeared to be a manga novel. Ritsuka silently prayed that Youji really was asleep. He didn't want him to hear what he needed to ask.

"Um, Natsuo?"

"Hold on, they're about to have sex, I think. Doggy Style." Natsuo flipped to the next page, and Ritsuka fell silent and waited. "Awww, they were interrupted again! No one is that unfortunate in real life. Come on!" He looked up. "You were saying?"

Ritsuka blinked and pulled at the hem of his sweater. "I just... can you tell me where Kano's room is?"

Youji's eyes sprang open, revealing gleeful (and wicked) mint green. He turned his head without lifting it from Natsuo's lap, fixing his gaze on Ritsuka.

"Kano's room, you ask?" he said. "Ritsuka, don't tell us you've got a booty call with our resident ex-model. And by that I mean, do tell us, and give us details when it's over."

Ritsuka glared. "You were supposed to be asleep. And no, I don't have a booty call with Kano."

Youji only smirked. "A quickie then? A one-afternoon-stand? A long, smoldering, passionate love affair?"

"We've been reading too much manga," Natsuo laughed. "Why DO you want to see Kano, Ritsuka?"

Internally, Ritsuka fumed. This was the problem with asking for help-people always wanted to know your business. Seimei never did that to him, he realized. Seimei would ask questions only insofar as was polite, never deeply personal ones, and he never gave the impression that he only wanted the answers for gossip. Ritsuka missed that- along with everything else about Seimei.

"He's my friend." Ritsuka said, simply. "Will you tell me where his room is or not?"

Youji laughed before straightening out on Natsuo's lap again, letting his eyes slide shut once more. "Oh, the old "just friends" routine. A classic. Well, Ritsuka, his room's not that far from ours. Keep going down the hall past our door and his is the last one on the left."

Ritsuka stalked away without so much as a muttered thanks. He had thought if he could talk to Natsuo alone he would get at least a somewhat normal answer with minimal innuendos, but he realized now that that had been a ridiculous idea. When were the two of them ever alone? And of COURSE Youji hadn't really been asleep. Everything that boy did was deceitful.

Ritsuka could hear the two of them chittering and snickering to each other all the way up the staircase. But whatever. Everyone already knew he and Kano had been special ordered together and probably assumed they had "come together" that night. So what if any of them thought they had decided to carry it on during their free time? With any luck, word would get around to Soubi that he was taking up with Kano and he'd relax his grip on the whole stupid probation thing. Then he could finally see Seimei again.

Actually, now that Ritsuka thought about it, he was glad Youji had been awake. This is exactly the sort of rumor about him he needed spread around.

Now hoping he WOULD be caught, Ritsuka quickened his footsteps and straightened his spine. Just as he reached the end of the hall, before he could even come to a stop, the door opened, fingers dug into the front of his sweater and he was yanked inside. He found himself pressed to the wall, Kano's hand pinning him there by the shoulders.

"How did you know I was coming?" Ritsuka asked once he had swallowed down his surprise.

"Intuition," Kano said mysteriously. "Soubi wasn't around anywhere, was he? or Kio?"

Ritsuka shook his head. "I haven't seen either of them for hours."

Kano released him and went to a small, cedar wood dresser in the corner. "Have a seat. Mine is the top bunk."

The room was roughly the size of the one Ritsuka stayed in, but this one seemed more tidy and serene. There weren't pictures or posters or crazy colored lights. It had plain, light mocha-colored walls, dark blue curtains on the windows (which Ritsuka noted there were two in this room) three identical dressers, a single bed, and a set of bunk beds, all with matching brown and white patterned coverlets.

Ritsuka climbed into Kano's bunk. Despite having been invited there, he felt oddly like it was an intrusion into Kano's personal space. Maybe, reflected Ritsuka as Kano dug around in the dresser, he felt that way because Kano's wasn't the bed he really wanted to be in.

Trying to distract himself from that depressing thought, Ritsuka said, "Where are your roommates?"

"Who knows," Kano replied nonchalantly, head still buried in the dresser. "We don't really keep tabs on each other. They're cool guys and all but we pretty much do our own thing. ...ah hah!"

He emerged with a small square of paper in his hand. From what Ritsuka could see, it was entirely blank. Whatever Kano wanted him to see must have been on the opposite side.

"THIS," said Kano triumphantly, "is what I wanted to show you."

"What is it?"

"A photograph. I'll come up there and show you. I have a feeling showing it to you from here wouldn't do the thing justice."

Ritsuka scooted over to make room as Kano mounted the small ladder. When he had settled in place, Ritsuka was surprised to see he was actually trying to suppress a smile, and it wasn't working very well.

"What are you-"

"You're going to love me forever," Kano said eagerly. He had the photo pressed to his chest, concealing whatever image it was on. "I was at Soubi's apartment last night and couldn't sleep, so I decided to make myself useful and I happened upon this." He held it out, full out smiling now.

Ritsuka stared back at him a moment, caught off guard by so much information. Then he looked down. His heart stuttered and then lurched into triple-beat.

It was a picture of Seimei.

If Ritsuka had to guess at his age, he would have said early twenties...and look, there was a messenger bag slung over one shoulder. Seimei must have been in college with the photo was taken. There were trees in the background, orange and yellow leaves dotting every branch. Maybe a scene from campus grounds in autumn? There was a casual, easy smile on his face. Seimei looked as though he didn't know he was being photographed, but something told Ritsuka that in reality, Seimei had been very, very aware.

Seimei was alone in the frame. Ritsuka could only guess at who had taken the picture.

College Seimei didn't look very much different than the Seimei that Ritsuka knew. His hair was a bit shorter…his eyes a bit wider…but overall, his expression, his clothing, his posture…it was all Seimei. Ritsuka would have recognized him in the picture 20 feet away. But when Ritsuka looked closer, he saw that there was another difference: it wasn't just that Seimei's eyes were wider, they were also duller. Ritsuka knew Seimei's eyes to be warm-glowing sometimes-hot other times...always there was an element of fire in them. But in this picture, Seimei's eyes were nothing but ice.

"I don't have to give this back, do I?"Ritsuka asked, his voice dazed.

Kano chuckled. "Keep it. Soubi has a few dozen of them and I'll bet my hooker-heeled boots he's got more stashed someplace else. He won't miss it. Probably won't miss a few more either. It all depends on how methodically obsessed with the man he really is, but I doubt he has the time to count his picture every night. He's got no reason to be suspicious of thieves."

It was kind of embarrassing for someone to be so unflinchingly sure that he was so head-over-heels for Seimei that he'd be dying for a photo of him, but Kano really seemed to pass no judgment on the matter-maybe even understood firsthand what it was like.

"I don't know how to thank you."

"No need for that. I wanted to make you smile."

And the words, almost like magic, DID pull a smile out of Ritsuka. Because he now had a solid image of the one person he'd be happy staring at forever.

"There it is," Kano said, giving Ritsuka cheek an affectionate pat. "Just don't let anyone see. There would be pandemonium if Soubi found out. And hey... I wouldn't mind a little kiss either."

He pointed to his own cheek and Ritsuka shrugged. It wasn't like he was asking for tongue. He leaned forward and planted a kiss on the apple of Kano's cheek.

"We should go find a good place to keep that thing stashed," Kano said, slightly flushed in the face.

Ritsuka paused to stare. He hadn't given much thought to it before, but Kano seemed suspiciously keen on him for someone who hadn't known him that long. He was blushing, and it wasn't like Kano didn't receive much more intimate gestures on a nightly basis. The action alone couldn't possibly be the cause of that kind of reaction.

Nervously, he climbed off the bunk after Kano, feeling guilty for his unrequited feelings and unsure what he should do about the whole situation. But Kano was obviously aware of Ritsuka's feelings for Seimei, and maybe that was enough. He had also spoken fondly of Soubi… maybe crushes were simply a running theme for him.

When they stepped into the hallway, Ritsuka asked, "You said you spent the night at Soubi's apartment. Does he do that often with the boys?"

Kano kept straight ahead and didn't seem bothered by it at all. "You know, sometimes. Like every healthy man sometimes he wants a full night of festivities instead of just a quickie over his office desk. He thinks it's easier on Kio, too, since he's not around to really witness anything, but he's wrong. It's a thousand times worse. Hey... Ritsuka, put that thing away."

Ritsuka still had the photo in his hand and kept glancing at it as they spoke. As he slipped it into his belt buckle, a voice made him stop dead, icy fear racing over him.

"My, my. If it isn't the two darling partners in crime."

It was Soubi. Right behind them. Ritsuka stayed stationary, his eyes cutting to Kano's in terror. HAD he seen the photo?

Kano's expression betrayed no worry, but Ritsuka could see his pulse racing in his throat. He turned to Soubi and with cool pleasantry said, "Hey, Soubi. Bit odd seeing you in the hallways."

"If by 'odd', you mean, 'completely within my rights as title-holder of the building,' then yes, it is odd." Soubi replied blithely. "May I see you two in my office? We have business to discuss."

Something about his tone made Ritsuka very sure it was not actually a question. HAD Soubi seen the picture? Was he planning to reprimand Ritsuka and Kano for it, saving that for a private setting, where he could force them to "repay" him for the theft? Ritsuka's heart shook inside his chest. He could stomach a reprimand, even a session of badly-performed desk sex, so long as he didn't have to give back the photograph of Seimei. Right now, it felt like the only lifeline he had to the man.

Kano shrugged nonchalantly. "Sure, I'm not busy at the moment." He made it sound like he and Soubi were business partners instead of employer and employee.

Soubi's eyes glinted with what seemed like mild irritation and swept away, leaving Ritsuka and Kano to follow.

A look of puzzlement twisted with a strand of trepidation passed between the two boys. Then Kano smiled with warm reassurance and gestured at Soubi's retreating back. "Shall we?"

Ritsuka exhaled audibly and fell into step beside him. If nothing else, at least he wasn't facing this alone.

* * *

><p>Once inside the office, they took their seats opposite Soubi's desk and waited for him to close the door, the curtain's that lined the glass window in the door, and tuck himself into his executive chair.<p>

Soubi templed his fingers in front of himself, his eyes closed for a long moment. Finally he spoke. "Late this morning I received a call from Mr. Takahashi."

"I am NOT going!" Ritsuka burst out before he could stop himself. His legs began to tremble with the onset of an emotional meltdown.

Kano coughed, hiding his mouth behind his hand. Soubi's lips twitched, as if he were suppressing a smirk.

"Fortunately, Mr. Takahashi is not requesting another encounter." he said.

Ritsuka sagged in his chair, relief pouring through every nerve ending. He couldn't handle another "encounter" with that man. He couldn't.

"What he is requesting is, in fact, a recording."

"You mean a video? Of the two of us?" asked Kano. Ritsuka saw that his posture had straightened almost imperceptibly.

This time, Soubi DID smirk. "Precisely. You and Ritsuka would perform in front of a camera. Mr. Takahashi - and anyone else willing to pay a small fee - would receive the tape."

"A video of the two of us," Ritsuka repeated, hesitantly. "Like… jumping on trampolines, spraying each other with squirt guns, giggling….?"

He knew it sounded stupid even as he said it, but he was hopeful. Kano was becoming his friend and the idea of being intimate with him was more embarrassing than thinking about performing on a stranger he'd (hopefully) never have to see again. He had shared pancakes with Kano that morning and he couldn't really see such comfortable interplay continuing if they had to elicit sexual gratification from one another.

Soubi had the audacity to chuckle, which infuriated Ritsuka to no mild extent. He bit down on his tongue to keep from lashing out again.

"My dear boy." Said Soubi. "That sort of play is all good and fine at perhaps a… gentlemen's club," he shrugged airily. "But Soubi Productions is nothing but the highest quality in entertainment. The two of you will be engaged in highly intimate foreplay and copulation."

Rituska's face felt like someone had taken a blowtorch too it. He kept his eyes glued on Soubi's spidery fingers, which were now doing gleeful pushups against each other, but could see Kano's hands tighten on the arms of his chair.

Soubi went on, completely unabashed. "Mr. Takahashi raved about the two adorable little angels I sent him. He was completely charmed by Ritsuka's shy reluctance and the way he clung so wantonly to Kano."

Ritsuka covered his face with his hands, every cell in his body flushed with humiliation. He had only a second to wonder if Kano was as horrified as he was when he heard him say, "It was quite adorable, it's true. Ritsuka's behavior had a rather pleasant effect on myself as well."

"Excellent." Soubi stabbed his index finger toward Kano, all smiles. "That's what the video will be. Two young boys in love. Kano, you'll gently seduce Ritsuka until he's clinging and writhing against you. Then you take him sweetly but passionately. I want to hear you both-"

Ritsuka couldn't hear another word. "WHOA!" he shouted.

Soubi turned to face him, raising his eyebrows with almost comically exaggerated interest.

"What if I don't WANT to be seduced by Kano and cling and writhe against him? What if I don't want to make a video AT ALL?" Ritsuka demanded.

He watched Soubi blink a slow, sardonic blink and tried to ignore the way Kano sagged in his chair, mouth drooping into a glum line.

"Well, Ritsuka, it's not as though you aren't aware of what living in the House entails..." said Soubi delicately.

"I'm already on probation! Now you're making me do THIS?"

"If I recall, you've so far declined my offers of more modest labor..." one of Soubi's hands lazily twirled in the air as he continued. "Re-alphabetizing my list of client contact...categorizing my receipts by date and total...cleaning out those dusty filing cabinets..."

Ritsuka stuffed his hands under his thighs, refusing to capitulate.

"If you WERE inclined to acquiesce to such tasks," Soubi went on. "I would gladly forget this business of video camera and Takahashi. It's not really something I'd enjoy forcing you into, after all."

Ritsuka snorted inwardly. Yeah right.

"But, sadly," sighed Soubi. "You seem determined to take the more difficult path...sow wilder oats...choose to put yourself between rocks and hard places..."

"Alright, alright!" he finally exclaimed. "I'll work in your damn office!"

Kano, obviously coming out of his temporary case of disappointment and self-pity, covered Ritsuka's hand with his own. The gesture didn't seem to insinuate anything disrespectful, and the blatant kindness of it made the back of Ritsuka's eye sting with tears. Sometimes Kano's behavior reminded him of Seimei, in a fragmentary sort of way. It definitely was not exact, but it was enough. Enough to make him long for Seimei more than he already had been, but not enough to make him turn to Kano instead.

He sat stonily, refusing to blink and bring any of those hidden tears to the surface. He'd already shown Soubi how outraged he was—he didn't need to show him how deeply it actually burned.

"Very well." Soubi stood and took from his top drawer a plain silver lighter and pack of cigarettes. Fleetingly, Ritsuka wondered why he wasn't using his usual butterfly patterned zippo; but he didn't care enough to let the thought gel. "Meanwhile, I'm a little dismayed. It seems something of mine has been misplaced, something immensely personal. The two of you wouldn't happen to know of anyone around The House with sticky fingers?"

Ritsuka felt himself stiffen, and the picture tucked into his belt felt suddenly hot and sharp against his skin. He didn't seem to suspect Kano, or at least doubted any suspicions he may have harbored because his gaze paused longer and more piercingly on Ritsuka.

"No..." Kano said thoughtfully, lifting a few fingers to his chin in mock contemplation. "I can't say that I do. You, Ritsuka?"

Ritsuka wasn't too far gone emotionally to realize he should said no. Part of him wanted to shout at Soubi that HE took "immensely personal" item, that he knew it was a picture of Seimei, and that Soubi was pathetic to still be hung up on a man who regularly paid young boys for sex.

...then Ritsuka remembered that he himself was hung up on that same man. He sunk down into his chair, heart twisting painfully.

"Hmmm..." Soubi murmured. "Well, I'll be monitoring The House a bit more carefully from now on."

Kano straightened to attention, a hint of excitement creeping into his tone. "We'll keep a lookout for you as well. It might be kind of fun doubling as junior detectives. Mix things up a bit. Right?" He nudged Ritsuka in the ribs with playful show, but the sharp look in his eyes left no room for joviality.

"Right," Ritsuka said, trying to inject as much enthusiasm into the word as possible. It came out flat and hoarse.

Kano frowned at him. He shot a concerned look Soubi's way. "Sir? Would it be alright if Ritsuka had one more free evening? He seems to still be shaken from the memories of Mr. Takahashi, as I'm sure you understand. It's my night off. I can take him out and get his mind off _certain clients_."

Soubi's eyes flashed with a hint of understanding, but he lowered his eyelids so quickly that Ritsuka wondered if he had imagined it. Soubi considered Kano for a short moment, then softened. "Of course. Take Ritsuka out and help him settle down. But I expect the both of you to be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed tomorrow."

Kano nodded. "We will be, sir. I could even help Ritsuka clean - I know that's not really his favorite pastime but I don't mind it. And the work will go faster with four hands instead of two."

At this, all of Soubi's previous softness vanished. "No. Ritsuka needs to do it himself. This is his probation, Kano, not yours."

There was apparently enough sternness in his tone even for Kano, because Kano gave no argument.

Ritsuka didn't know if he preferred to have Kano's help or not, anyway. It was true that another pair of hands would make the work go faster, but he would also have to deal with Kano's none-too-subtle crush. Ritsuka was starting to feel increasingly guilty about it. He was profiting from Kano's feelings: Seimei's picture, help with Mr. Takahashi, and so on. But he had no intentions of going any farther with Kano than friendship - and he was starting to feel like he was leading Kano on. No, he hadn't implied that he and Kano WOULD deepen their relationship, but Ritsuka also hadn't made it perfectly clear that it would never happen. Maybe it was wrong of him not to.

On the other hand, the fact remained that Kano HAD gotten him the photo of Seimei. He was perfectly aware of Ritsuka's feelings for Seimei, seemed to want to help him even. And yet, maybe it was better to lay all the cards out on the table so there wasn't any embarrassing miscommunications. He resolved to tell Kano that night, he just wasn't sure how.

"Come on," Kano said, snapping him out of his reverie. He was standing in front of Ritsuka's chair with his hand out. "We'll have fun. I promise."

Something in his warm smile made Ritsuka believe him. He reached out his own hand, smiling back.

* * *

><p>The sun was already making its expedition downward by the time they reached the city square. It was bright and orange in the periwinkle sky, about midway to the horizon and casting long, sharp shadows across the streets and sidewalks. The buildings in this part were tall, making Ritsuka feel more dwarfed than usual. It wasn't a bad feeling, though; it made him feel as if there was so much more out there for him besides Soubi's House and The Street.<p>

He was happy to note that not one person had looked at him inappropriately. This may have been due to their modest wardrobes, which consisted of actual pants that weren't skin-tight, boys boots, shirts with long sleeves, and coats with matching gloves. Ritsuka had even found a blue and purple scarf to throw around his neck. But mostly Ritsuka thought it had to do with the fact that he was walking next to Kano, which many people seemed to recognize, and because Natsuo and Youji were trailing along behind them, making obscene comments.

The tail end of one such comment caught Ritsuka's ears.

" - and then I'm going to make you scream, baby." Youji's voice.

Ritsuka knew where this was going and he CERTAINLY didn't want to hear any more. He turned around, hissing, "Ugh! We can HEAR you, you know."

Youji laughed. "Who said we didn't want you to?"

Kano chuckled, and Ritsuka glared at him. "It's not like we have virgin ears, Ritsuka," he said good-naturedly.

"Oooo, you KNOW how it turns me on when you talk dirty to me." Natsuo murmured in a stage whisper, wrapping an arm around Youji's waist. Then he looked pointedly at Ritsuka, grinning wickedly.

Ritsuka couldn't help it. He sighed. Long and loud and in that ill-tempered, scary way his mother used to sigh right before a fit was about to come on. Ritsuka didn't feel fitful though; just exasperated.

"We have think about that sort of thing almost every night of the week," he said. "Don't you have any other interests? ANY at all?"

The couple looked at each other, smiles widening in such a sinister way that it made Ritsuka momentarily petrified he had asked.

"Ice cream!" They both shouted, and bolted past.

Kano looked at Ritsuka, a winsome smile on his face, hands in his pockets. "Sounds great to me."

They caught up with Natsuo and Youji at an Ice-cream Shoppe three blocks away. The two of them were already seated at an outside table, Natuso slurping Strawberry ice-cream from a waffle cone and Youji making a show with his raspberry big stick. A woman cried out in outrage and covered her small daughter's eyes with her hands and they skittered off. Youji smirked like he'd just won first prize for biggest slut in the region and couldn't be more proud.

Ritsuka felt a migraine coming on. Maybe some ice cream would numb his brain enough to dull the pain. He didn't have to eat it like Youji was, at any rate...

With that optimistic thought in mind, Ritsuka approached the stand and ordered one mint chocolate chip waffle cone from the cashier - who looked spectacularly un-enthused. Just when he was reaching into his pocket to pull out money to pay, Kano gently caught his wrist.

"Don't worry, Ritsuka. It's on me." he said smoothly. Then he held out a few bills in the cashier's direction.

The cashier didn't look like he could care less who was paying for what. With a wide yawn, he handed Kano his change and turned around to retrieve Ritsuka's order.

"Thank you," Ritsuka said, rubbing uncomfortably at his arm. His face felt hot. He wasn't used to being around people who acted this way toward him, and he wasn't quite sure how to tell him that his kindness was welcome but that's really all that was. He didn't mind so much how touchy Kano seemed to be—he'd noticed he seemed to be that way with all the rest of the boys and even Kio. He just wasn't sure where to draw the line or how to tell him that he didn't want any special treatment he wouldn't give anyone else.

The cashier handed Ritsuka his cone. He wrapped a napkin around the base, then said, "Kano," and abruptly stalled. Kano had gotten a cone exactly like his. "I… you like mint chocolate too?"

Kano shrugged. "Never had it before, but I like to live on the wild side."

Ritsuka snorted a short laugh. A new ice cream flavor was much less of a risk than sleeping with the first person of the night to open his pocketbook.

"You know what I think, though?" Kano went on, stepping closer to Ritsuka. He leaned in as if he were about to whisper, casting his eyes about suspiciously.

Frowning curiously, Ritsuka leaned in. "What?"

"I think yours will _always_ taste better." Quicker than Ritsuka could begin to work out that riddle, Kano grabbed his wrist and took a generous half-lick, half-bite of his ice cream, then shot off down the street, laughing like a first grader.

Stunned, Ritsuka stood frozen, then gasped and gave chase. "Hey!" he shouted, but he wasn't angry. He felt happy for once, and lighthearted, and like nothing in the world would please him more than to take a bite of Kano's ice cream for revenge. _Twice_ as big. Then stick out his tongue and dance away.

Ritsuka couldn't seem to catch up, but he kept Kano in view for a good two blocks. When he slipped around the corner of a stone brick building, Ritsuka doubled his efforts, pummeling through shocked and crabby pedestrians. He had just turned the corner himself when he ran flat into Kano's back and landed theatrically on his bottom. Somehow, he'd managed to hold up his cone and keep the ice cream from falling off the top.

"Hey, what gives?" He asked Kano's back. He was standing stationary, and from his angle on the sidewalk, Ritsuka could just see the side of his face and that his mouth was hanging open. Ritsuka followed the backward tilt of his head to trace his gaze at whatever had rendered him so completely immobile.

Above them was a group of men, four or five, Ritsuka wasn't sure because it only took seconds for his gaze to lock on one of the men leading the group. The handsome man with the long, grey jacket and dark hair, curling delicately around the collar.

"Seimei…" Ritsuka breathed out the name absently, staring up with unblinking eyes.

Seimei seemed to have been talking casually to the rest of the group. His violet eyes danced with what looked like amusement, one wrist curling in the air to gesture along with whatever words he had been speaking. A light smile played across his features as he turned to focus on the sidewalk ahead of him, and that's when his eyes suddenly locked with Ritsuka's.

The moment dragged on for an eternity in Ritsuka's mind. He hoped and prayed to be granted knowledge of just what Seimei was thinking. Was he happy to see Ritsuka? Was he merely surprised? Was he dismayed? There was no clue to be found on Seimei's face - it was only flash-frozen in his previous expression. Ritsuka never did find out what Seimei was thinking in that instant. All he knew was that there was SOMETHING going on in Seimei's painfully handsome head.

Ritsuka ached with desire for him.

"Ritsuka..." Seimei said - and Ritsuka could only hope that Seimei's smile really WAS widening, and that it wasn't simply his imagination playing tricks on him.

One of the other members of the group, a rail-thin man with a dark ponytail, cleared his throat before speaking up. "Am I missing something here? Are these boys clients of yours?"

Ritsuka watched Seimei's dark eyelashes flutter as he blinked raptly, as if coming back to reality. "Forgive my rudeness, gentlemen." He held out a hand to Ritsuka, who dazedly took it, sparks sizzling through his fingers at the contact as Seimei helped him up."Allow me to present Ritsuka. He's a very fine young artist. I plan to commission him when I redecorate my office next month."

He was _definitely _smiling wider. And he hadn't yet let go of Ritsuka's hand. And Ritsuka had been called a fine artist. And Seimei wanted to commission him. And Ritsuka's complexion was six shades of red. And he couldn't find his voice. And there were still about ten-thousand volts racing through his veins, charging his heart to a ferocious _lub-dub, lub-dub, lub-dub _that he was sure could be seen against his ribs even through the bulk of his thick coat.

All the men, save one, nodded and murmured vague how-do-you-dos. Ritsuka tried to make himself respond in kind but something was stealing his voice away. He coughed awkwardly. The one man that hadn't yet spoken a word was blond, like Soubi, but his hair was cut shorter - a rough chop that ended just above his collarbones. Like Soubi, he wore glasses, but the frames were rectangular. He was dressed like the rest of the group: long coat over an expensive-looking suit.

Ritsuka looked to Kano, hoping to be spared the responsibility of responding. Kano was usually reliable in that area. This time, however, Kano was (if possible) even more speechless than Ritsuka. He was still staring, open-mouthed. Belatedly, Ritsuka realized WHO he was staring at. It was that silent man...and he seemed to be staring with equal single-mindedness at Kano.

"Ah..." said Seimei, glancing back and forth between the two. "And this is his partner in crime, Kano -"

"Yamazaki," the blond man broke in, the beginnings of a smile curling around his lips. "We've met."

Ritsuka heard Kano gulp. His ice cream dripped with a _splat splat splat_ on the sidewalk.**.**

The smirk on the man's face, Ritsuka thought, was quite frankly creeping him out; he looked like he wanted to _eat _Kano, and slowly. Ritsuka prodded Kano in the ribs with his elbow, trying to break through his trance, but Kano was completely immersed, prey and predator blind to the world surrounding them. Flocks of people moved passed them, oblivious to the strange atmosphere clouding their group, their intrusion of personal space too trivial to break the spell.

Helplessly, Ritsuka looked up at Seimei, whose eyes cut to him in the same moment, wearing an identical mask of wry bemusement. Rituska raised inquisitive eyebrows, and Seimei smirked.

"And may I introduce my coworkers," he said. "Ritsu Minami and Nisei Akame."

Nisei, the dark-haired man, narrowed his eyes in suspicious contemplation. His watery-dark irises darted between Ritsu and Kano, and then surveyed Seimei and Ritsuka.

"He looks like you," he said finally, and nudged his pointed chin toward Ritsuka. "That one. Bit of a coincidence, wouldn't you say?"

Seimei blinked. It was the closest Ritsuka had ever seen him to being taken aback.

"I suppose," he said. Then there was a long pause. "I never really…saw it before."

Privately, Ritsuka had no idea what this Nisei Akame person was talking about. Seimei was an Adonis and Ritsuka was anything but. Ritsuka would concede that, sure, they both had dark hair, but the physical similarities ended there. Ritsuka could never see himself being the subject of anyone's secret fantasies. Seimei, on the other hand, was the textbook example of a person that others would dream about – night and day.

Suddenly, Ritsuka realized that Seimei was looking at him. Had _been_ looking at him, actually, for many moments now. His expression made him look like someone who had stumbled upon a treasure map, or a mirage, or a hidden oasis deep in the desert.

And then Seimei seemed to come back to himself. He cleared his throat quickly and said, "Ritsuka has quite a talent with both landscapes and portraits. He was kind enough to show me a little of his work recently."

"Interesting," said Nisei, though he looked like he thought it was anything but. His eyes were still narrowed at Ritsuka, a trace of irritation mixed with amusement flittering across his face. "Maybe he can capture a few of you in your true nature. Cold, vicious, merciless." He smiled. It wasn't a kind smile. "_Loveless_."

Now Ritsuka blinked, uncertainty gripping his stomach. He remembered Kio's warning about Seimei, and Soubi's ominously bedraggled expression whenever his name was brought up.

A sudden rage bubbled up inside of him. "Seimei is not—" he began, and was cut off by Seimei's gentle touch on his shoulder.

"Nisei is referring to my abilities when court is in session. Lawyers aren't generally known for their compassion, I'm afraid." He offered an apologetic smile.

Before anyone could comment further, a man appeared at Nisei's elbow. He was stout and curly-haired, wearing a plain white apron over his workman's clothes. He was holding a box of roses, each of them rolled with a bundle of baby's breath in a sheet of translucent cellophane. Ritsuka could see red, soft orange, shell pink, and butter yellow.

"Excuse me for interrupting," said the man. His smile showed the large gap between his two front teeth. "Roses? Perhaps to take home to a misses? A gift for the fine young boys?"

Ritsuka instantly blushed crimson; he could feel his cheeks burn with it, sudden and sharp and hot.

And Kano STILL hadn't said anything! What was WRONG with him? It wasn't like Ritsuka to be the one in their friendship to do the talking. Ritsuka elbowed him again, hoping to be relieved of the responsibility as soon as possible. If someone didn't say something immediately, it was going to get VERY awkward VERY fast.

Because Ritsuka WANTED a rose. He really did. And there was no question of who he wanted it from, or what color he wished it would be. The one fabled in fairy tales and Disney movies and Hallmark cards. The one that decorated every shop during Valentine's day. Red. The deepest, darkest red. A red rose could only mean one thing. It was the symbol of true love.

...Kano didn't say a word or move a muscle.

The impending Crisis of Awkward was averted, however, by none other than Ritsu. He managed to tear his stare away from Kano and smiled at the florist in a brisk sort of way, a way that Ritsuka knew meant Ritsu hadn't really seen the man at all.

"One of your yellow roses, please," he said to the florist. He reached into his coat pocket and carelessly drew out a few bills in payment.

"Of course, of course!" cried the man. He greedily snatched the bills and pocketed them, then pulled from his box a pale yellow rose, the wrappings making delicate crinkling sounds as it was passed from the man to Ritsu and then offered to Kano.

Finally, freaking _finally, _Kano's eyes moved from Ritsu's face and down to the gift. He stared at it wondrously, as if a tiny angel had sprouted wings in Ritsu's palms and he could hardly believe such a miracle existed. Carefully he reached out his boyish, but perfectly manicured hands-nails polished a dark candy-purple—and took the flower.

Ritsuka watched in amazement as the laid-back, smooth talking Kano swallowed hard and stuttered out a quavering, "Th-thank you," and then promptly flushed the color of fresh humming bird nectar.

Ritsuka was stunned. And jealous. Kano hadn't said a word, had barely moved a muscle since Seimei and his group had approached them, and he got a rose. Admittedly, not a red one, but a rose nonetheless.

Ritsu's eyes visibly glittered. "You're most welcome, Kano."

If it was possible, Kano flushed an even deeper crimson.

A subtle cough caught Ritsuka's attention suddenly to his right. Looking up, he fairly jumped out of his skin. Seimei was right next to him. When had he come so close? How had Ritsuka not seen him move?

"I don't think this one is at all inappropriate," Seimei said with a grin, "given how much I've enjoyed our time together thus far." And he drew a rose from behind his back - a single delicate flower, petals only just beginning to unfurl and bloom. His smile turned warmer, and more secret somehow, as he handed the rose out to Ritsuka.

Ritsuka's hands shook as he took it. He held it carefully in both, raising it to his nose and inhaling deeply of the heady scent.

The rose was a red one.

His legs were suddenly unsteady beneath him. He felt a sudden and severe urge to bounce up and down, dance, fly…_something! _Here he had been worrying himself nearly sick over the possibility that Seimei had forgotten all about him, and the truth was that Seimei not only admired his ridiculous sketches, but honestly and truly enjoyed the too few nights he had spent in Ritsuka's inexperienced company.

He wanted to fling his arms around Seimei's neck and kiss him full on the mouth, and in his moment of elation probably would have if Nisei hadn't stepped in, rapidly losing patience.

"Are we done here?" he hissed. "I'm getting desperately bored with all this ridiculous man-flirting."

"Nisei grows jealous of his insufficient charm," quipped Ritsu. "Being that I'm suddenly in a charitable mood, I'll spare you. Shall we, gentlemen?"

Seimei chuckled and shook his head, looking fondly exasperated at his coworkers. "I suppose we shall."

Everyone but Ritsu and Seimei muttered vague goodbyes and turned to go. They seemed preoccupied (all except Nisei, who seemed plain pissed-off) rather than particularly rude.

"I hope I'll be seeing you around," said Ritsu, clearly to Kano, before turning to follow them.

Kano nodded at him without speaking and smiled with closed lips. He looked as shy as Ritsuka had EVER seen him. Shyer than Ritsuka could have imagined him EVER looking.

Seimei stayed put, though, lingering until the others had gotten quite a few paces down the sidewalk. They either didn't notice or didn't care that he hadn't followed the group.

"The same goes for me, you know, Ritsuka," he said. Then he winked.

Ritsuka's stomach felt like it had somersaulted inside him, exploded in butterflies, and then flopped into a messy puddle of chocolate pudding.

And with one last smile, Seimei was turning away and following the others down the street.

Ritsuka stared after him, feeling a strange mixture of sadness and boundless joy resonate through his blood.

Kano began to murmur softly beneath his breath, staring after Ritsu Minami with all the burning longing Ritsuka felt within himself.

"..Burden of honey-colored buds to kiss… and capture 'twixt the lips apart for this."

"What's that?" Ritsuka asked. Seimei was no longer visible amid the throngs of pedestrians.

"Victorian poetry," Kano said. He blinked and at long last met Ritsuka's gaze. "R. Browning. I've been known to be a hopeless romantic." He looked back toward the fading sunset, where the men had disappeared. "Sometimes."

"Who _was _that?" Ritsuka said. "He looked like Soubi."

Kano laughed. "Maybe the hair."

"Is he a client?"

"No...not a client." said Kano, beginning to slurp at his ice cream once again. He did so thoughtfully-as though there was more on his mind than simply responding to Ritsuka's questions.

"Then how do you know him?"

Kano laughed once more. He turned on his heel and began walking back to the ice cream shop. It was clear that he was going back to Youji and Natsuo and that he expected Ritsuka to follow him. "That's a story for another time, I think."

Ritsuka couldn't find it inside himself to be annoyed, though at any other time, he would have been. There was too much to be happy about right now. He had seen Seimei again, and he had shown interest in him, and he had given him a rose. Ritsuka looked down at it again. It was so unbelievably perfect. But wait...

"Kano?" asked Ritsuka hesitantly. "Does your rose have a tag on it?"

Kano jerked to a halt mid-step. "A tag?" Ritsuka saw him inspect his yellow rose. Kano turned around abruptly and Ritsuka did indeed see a tag tied neatly to the stem.

Ritsuka had already thoroughly gone over the tag on HIS rose. It had writing on it, in an elegant cursive script.

_Rose Color Meanings - Red  
>A red rose may symbolize any of the following:<br>Love, Beauty, Romantic Love, Desire, Sincere Love, Devotion, Undying Love_

He read it over again, slower, more deliberately, and out loud this time. Had Seimei even noticed the tag was there? And if so, had he read it? Furthermore, did he pick this rose specifically because of its symbolism?

His heart cartwheeled dizzily, and he had something new to mull over. Romantic love? Sincere? Devotion, undying, beauty, desire? His head exploded with hope and possibility. Tears burned beneath his eyelids, the enormity of what this _might be_ overwhelming his sensibility.

"Promise of a new beginning..." Kano said, reading from his rose's tag. "Welcome back...Remember me..."

"That's what yours means?" asked Ritsuka absently.

"Yeah..." said Kano, sounding just as dazed as Ritsuka felt. "That's what it says...I have to wonder if he knew..."

"If who knew what?" came a bounding, energetic voice. Ritsuka was pulled forcefully back to reality when he saw Youji and Natsuo approaching, ice cream stains on both their shirts and huge, carefree smiles all around.

Youji was the first to reach them. "Don't tell me you guys are discussing work again," he said sternly.

"No..." Ritsuka told him, feeling completely honest about the answer. The four of them fell into step together naturally and began the journey back to Soubi's House. "This isn't about work at all."

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><p><em>To be continued...<em>

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><p>AN: WAHAHAHAHA! *clears throat* Reviews please! :D<p>

Yours Truly,

MM and BC3


	13. Chapter 11

**Author's Note: **So… originally this chapter had a lot more that happened in it, but if we had posted it in one chapter the length would have just been obscene. So we chopped it in half. Don't worry—nothing was taken out. It was just made into two chapters. :) More to come soon!

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><p><strong>Chapter 11<strong>

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><p>Embarrassment, Ritsuka thought, would always be the plush apartment of Soubi Agatsuma. Inside these walls he had met Natsuo and Youji, taken up the offer of rent-boy, and lost his virginity to a man who went through sex like he went through cigarettes. Now, in the late hours of a Thursday night, the moon full and silver outside the bedroom window, Ritsuka slipped out of bed, holding a silken peach sheet around himself like a cape. His toes had barely touched the Persian fibers of the carpet when Soubi hummed thoughtfully.<p>

"Ritsuka, do put on that one-piece again."

Ritsuka closed his eyes and inhaled silently. With his back to Soubi, he had a moment to internalize the exasperation he felt. The one-piece was none other than that ridiculous bejeweled, peacock thong Soubi had given him as a "gift" weeks ago.

Without turning around to face Soubi, Ritsuka let the peach sheet fall soundlessly to the floor. Soubi had seen him wearing nothing at all more times than Ritsuka cared to admit at this point. What was modesty, really, in the end?

The thong was hanging off the corner of one of Soubi's nightstands and Ritsuka grabbed at it. Soubi had an almost obscene interest in the thing. Scratch that, it WAS obscene, which Ritsuka supposed was kind of the point. He yanked it on in quick bursts of frustrated energy.

"There. Satisfied?" he demanded, turning around to look Soubi in the face.

Soubi's eyes narrowed, lips curling up at the edges like the Grinch. "Not yet, but something tells me I will be later."

Ritsuka rolled his eyes.

"I'm feeling up for tea just now, though, Ritsuka." Soubi continued. "There is a pot in the kitchen and some Earl Grey in the cupboard in the corner." The command in his words was very clear.

Barely suppressing the urge to make a mock-bow, Ritsuka pivoted and left the room, beads of bright gold, hot blue, and acid green bouncing against his hips in tasseled strings.

The flat screen in the living room was on but muted, the picture showing a news broadcast that Ritsuka had no interest in. He located the remote and clicked it off. There wasn't any hope of returning here for a nice, non-physical evening of law-drama shows. Soubi seemed to be obsessed with them, especially the lawyers. Ritsuka had a particular interest in them as well, since it was directly related to Seimei's career.

It had been ten days since Ritsuka had seen him on that narrow road, ice-cream dripping down his wrist. Soubi had packed a small suitcase for Ritsuka that day, and it was waiting by the foot of the stairs when they had gotten back to The House. He had been momentarily alarmed, thinking he was finally being tossed back into the street. In reality, Soubi had wanted him back at the apartment for a while.

"Light duties," he had said dismissively when Ritsuka had pressed him for answers.

As it turned out, "light duties" consisted mainly of organizing the study and the library room and keeping Soubi in steady supply of sex. Ritsuka couldn't say he was particularly put off by this; sex with Soubi had become somewhat of a necessary routing in his life. Brush teeth, eat breakfast, make the bed, have sex. What difference did it make, really? He had to do it if he wanted to stay and at least Soubi kept himself clean and was relatively handsome.

Little did he know, however, that Ritsuka had basically mastered the far too few tips that Kano had shown him, and when he closed his eyes he could almost believe it was Seimei's teeth grazing along his shoulder or breathing hard against the sensitive nape of his neck.

_Almost_ being the operative word there. Soubi didn't have Seimei's polite, disarming voice or his particular haunting good looks or his exquisite touch. It was just that Ritsuka's imagination was above-average.

Soubi's kettle was like the rest of his apartment: stylish and almost utterly devoid of personal touch. It was made of gleaming stainless steel, with a brushed nickel handle. Ritsuka busied himself filling it with water and setting it to boil. Better to do something productive than to dwell on what (or rather, who) he didn't have right now.

His time apart from Soubi was far too short. Even before the kettle whistled he was striding into the kitchen and lowering himself into a chair at the table. A green silk robe hung loosely from his shoulders, glasses perched delicately on the bridge of his nose.

Ritsuka could see what Kio found attractive in him. He thought whatever physical blessings Soubi possessed were utterly wasted, though. Increasingly Ritsuka found himself annoyed by Soubi's general personhood, and angered by specific details of his behavior – namely, that he treated Ritsuka like an indentured servant.

"I'm sure that tea is more than steeped by now, Ritsuka," Soubi murmured. He gestured to the kettle, to which Ritsuka had added an ample amount of tea leaves.

Biting back irritation, Ritsuka turned off the gas burner and brought the kettle to the table, a burgundy oven mitt wrapped around the handle. Silently, he filled the two teacups that had already been set out before Soubi had whisked him off into the depths of the bedroom.

Soubi reached for the sugar jar. "Will you take it sweet tonight?"

"Sure," he answered, returning to sit across from Soubi once the kettle was back on the cooling stove.

Not wanting to push his luck, Ritsuka hadn't asked about his probation since arriving at the apartment last week, and Soubi hadn't volunteered any updates. Ritsuka would watch his expression for any signs that he was about to loosen his unnaturally firm grasp, but there was nothing to be learned in the face that was always so carefully neutral. Ritsuka had stopped looking days ago as the hours endlessly unfurled.

So it was surprising when Soubi cleared his throat and asked, almost too gently, "Ritsuka, how would you feel about taking on a client within the next few days?"

Cup raised half to his lips, Ritsuka paused in momentary confusion. "I'm off probation?"

"Not quite." Soubi squeezed the juice of a thinly-sliced lemon wedge into his teacup. Ritsuka waited patiently for him to go on. "I'm not yet comfortable allowing you the freedom of the Street, but I've spoken to a good client of mine about you and he's very interested in your services. This would be a special order in which a car would be arranged to pick you up and you would be brought back to my residence." He paused to take a sip. "I daresay you will find him more than agreeable company."

Ritsuka didn't know what to make of this. On the one hand, he was eager to get out of this cage Soubi called a "residence." On the other hand, Ritsuka didn't find the idea of servicing another client particularly appealing. And who knew what Soubi's idea of 'agreeable company' really was?

In the end, what choice did Ritsuka have? It was either service this client or refuse. If he refused, Soubi would either keep him in the apartment for more "light duties" or would extend his probation; or both. And none of those options sounded like good ones. If Ritsuka agreed to do the job, maybe Soubi would be appeased with his good behavior and shorten the probation, or end it all together. Ritsuka might even be wise to feign affection for this new client – throw off Soubi's suspicion that he was attached to Seimei.

But on second thought, it was no good. Soubi would spot Ritsuka's dishonesty. He was good at reading others. It was how he'd gotten Ritsuka into this line of work in the first place, and how he'd known that Ritsuka was enamored with Seimei in more than a profession capacity. And even if he didn't, Ritsuka didn't trust himself to be capable of keeping up the act for very long. Seimei consumed him, day and night. Acting wouldn't hide that. Ritsuka thought he should be scared of Seimei having such a hold on him, and so _quickly_ too, but he wasn't. He honestly, truly, wasn't afraid. Worried that it wouldn't work out? Sure. Worried that Seimei would never feel the same? Definitely. Worried that Soubi would keep him separated from Seimei indefinitely? Yeah. But he wasn't afraid of what his heart held for Seimei Aoyagi.

"You seem to be deep in thought. Do tell." Soubi said mildly, interrupting Ritsuka's musings.

Rather than acquiesce to this request, Ritsuka replied, "I'll see this client of yours. When did you tell him I was coming?"

"Such presumption that my client is male," tsked Soubi. "It's not unheard of for the fairer sex to call for my House's services, you know."

Ritsuka blanched.

Soubi chuckled. "Well, any uncertainty I might have had about your orientation has been firmly laid to rest. Worry not: this particular one is very surely of the masculine persuasion. And he is expecting you soon. Valentine's day, to be exact."

"He can't be much of a charmer if he has to buy a date for Valentine's day," Ritsuka mused. "Or much of a looker. Please tell me he showers on a regular basis."

"You must forgive me for my lack of foresight on your behalf. When you were first being introduced to clients, I should have been more selective to help ease you into the process. You're more high-strung than the rest of the boys; your luck on having been taken in by Aoyagi very first client and then the counter-luck of being forced into the company of Mr. Takahashi has skewed your view of the business. For that I deeply apologize." He patted Ritsuka's arm. "It's no wonder you've developed a certain fondness for Aoyagi considering the only other client you have to compare him to. But I assure you that he is not the only dashing client I have. Most are quite pleasant. You can ask any of the boys."

Ritsuka wasn't sure exactly where Soubi was going with this. He was apologizing for Mr. Taco Grease Takahashi, and actually sympathizing with him on his feelings for Seimei? He didn't trust it and decided to remain quiet. Eventually Soubi would have to get to the point and then Ritsuka would decide whether or not it was worth having a tantrum about.

Soubi finished mixing the lemon and sugar into his tea and tapped the spoon against the ledge to remove the remaining droplets. "I knew you'd be concerned about trying out another client, which is another reason for your probation. It allows me to better monitor and tailor to your situation. I want you to see just have pleasant new clients can be. So please look over his profile."

He pulled a manila folder out of his robe and slid it across the table toward Ritsuka, who stared down at it with a mixture of confusion and reluctance. Soubi didn't seem to understand that Ritsuka wasn't interested in other clients because he had a personal investment in Seimei. Because Seimei was his beautiful stranger, his gallant knight, his hero when he had been down and out on his luck and all his hope had vanished. Ritsuka liked everything about Seimei, but a profile of anyone—even Seimei himself—couldn't compare to the feeling Ritsuka carried inside of him. Nothing about Seimei could be manufactured or reproduced in someone else.

Still, he flipped open the file and began scanning the contents:

The first thing that caught Ritsuka's eye was a photograph paper-clipped to the top left corner. The man shown in it looked a bit like Seimei, Ritsuka was startled to discover. His hair was black like Seimei's, but shorter, and lacking the hint of curls. His eyes were clear and rounded, cheekbones high. He even had a relaxed smile. He was handsome all in all.

Ritsuka didn't care. He scanned the rest of the profile.

Tokino Fujiwara….single, 27 years old…an orthodontist practicing locally…blah, blah, blah

Ritsuka sighed. Soubi didn't get it. He thought he could distract Ritsuka from Seimei just by showing him the profile of some relatively handsome and successful random guy?

Then something else in the profile caught Ritsuka's attention. This 'Tokino Fujiwara' lived only one block away from Seimei! Did Soubi miss that? Did he perhaps think Ritsuka wouldn't notice?

Maybe Soubi just assumed that even if Ritsuka DID notice, that he wouldn't have the guts to use the information. If so, Soubi had BADLY underestimated him.

Careful to leave his expression of bored neutrality in place, Ritsuka shut the folder with another sigh.

"So. Valentine's day with someone who sticks his hands in other people's mouths for a living. I can hardly wait," he said sarcastically.

Soubi's smile seemed to freeze in place. "I'm afraid you aren't too favorably impressed, and yet the finicky sir failed to hide his pleasant surprise at Mr. Fujiwara's photograph. He's quite handsome, wouldn't you agree?"

"He's handsome," Ritsuka said offhandedly, and took a sip of lukewarm tea. It had cooled fast; Soubi liked to keep the apartment slightly chilled. "I just find it hard to muster up any sort of excitement over someone I haven't even met. He might be smelly."

"You're certainly obsessed with odors."

"You must never have met Mr. Taco Grease Takahashi in person or that would be your most pressing concern when adding newbies to your super special list."

Soubi looked momentarily stunned by this blatant insult to his client, then burst out laughing. Ritsuka started at the unexpected sound. "Yet another thing I believe you will adore about Mr. Fujiwara! His sense of humor is very much intact. I assure you that you'll find his personal hygiene up to par."

Ritsuka snorted. "If you say so."

Soubi picked up his teacup and drained the last of it, setting it down with a satisfied _clink_. "I do say so," he said. "I really do."

Soubi kept up most of the conversation after that, chatting idly about plans for the day and improvements he was going to make to the House (something about installing new recessed hall lights, Ritsuka wasn't really paying very close attention). He seemed to be in an entirely better mood than he had been in quite a while, at least since discovering that Seimei had chosen Ritsuka twice in a row. But it was hard to read Soubi on the best of days. Ritsuka wondered if it were possible that everything he did was some sort of elaborate act. Sometimes he got the feeling that the only person who knew what was really going on inside that head of his was Soubi himself – or maybe Kio.

The plans Soubi had made for Ritsuka's peacock thong made themselves known quite clearly soon after that, when Soubi requested that Ritsuka bend himself over the kitchen table. Ritsuka endured the encounter with a surprising amount of detachment. So much, in fact, that he was pleased with himself for learning Kano's method of thinking of intimacy like a job and nothing more. But after that thought, Ritsuka felt ashamed of himself, and faintly nauseous.

"I'll be leaving early in the morning," were Soubi's parting words as he disengaged himself, barely having given himself a chance to catch his breath. "Pleasant dreams."

Ritsuka watched him retreat back into the confines of the master suite without a word more. When the door clicked shut, Ritsuka sagged against the table with a sigh. Probation was exhausting. He couldn't understand why so many of the boys spoke of it like it were some rejuvenating vacation. Although, it was possible that Soubi was making extra allowances for himself where Ritsuka was concerned. Kio had said that Soubi was particularly fond of him, although Ritsuka just didn't see it.

After a bath-which had become habitual for him after "entertaining"-Ritsuka dressed himself in comfortable cotton pajama pants and a faded T-shirt with Domo on the front. He wasn't sure exactly where it had come from, but he had found it in the suitcase Soubi had packed and liked it better than his peacock getup.

Then Ritsuka ventured into the "guest bedroom" (or "library" or "drawing room" or "study"…whichever word Soubi happened to be calling it at any given time). The room was dimly lit and empty of any human company, which were the only two things Ritsuka cared about in a room right now. Those, and the special something hidden in one of the bookcases.

Ritsuka had to pull a nearby ottoman over to reach it. He stood on tiptoe, balancing precariously. The special something was hidden on the topmost shelf – because Ritsuka had assumed the highest shelf would be the last place someone would think to look for it. He wasn't very tall, after all, and not much of a climber.

But he _was_ resourceful (hence the ottoman) and at last he reached it: a heavy, thick book bound in old leather. The title on the cover was printed in gold leaf: _The Tale of Genji._

It was a classic work of Japanese literature that Ritsuka had read excerpts of for his studies, and he remembered liking it, but he never did get around to reading it in its entirety. When he had first noticed the book as he was organizing, it had given him a pang somewhere in his heart. It brought back a flood of memories from his life before the streets, and he missed his mother. She was crazy and things were intolerable, but somehow a piece of him missed the only semblance of a family he had ever known.

Pulling out the book now, he wasn't thinking about his mother. He was thinking again about Seimei, because the special something he had hidden away inside this book that felt like a piece of his youth was a piece of Seimei.

Untying the straps that bound it closed, he turned it over and opened the back cover. Inside was the rose, red as the day Seimei had given it to him. He had hidden it in his lapels when Soubi had announced their impending temporary leave of absence from The House, and he had stuck it in the book to be pressed and preserved. He wanted to keep it forever. No matter what happened, no matter who or what he lost, no matter if he couldn't keep the rose with him, he needed to know that it went on. That it was a bright, tangible reminder of Seimei's kindness which would always be a constant, always be hidden away here, safe and beloved.

Slowly, he brought the book to his face and breathed in the dried petals. The perfume was now faint, but it was there. An image of Seimei burned against his closed eyelids.

"Oh, Seimei…" he whispered. "I miss you."

* * *

><p>Soubi stayed true to his word and was out of the apartment before Ritsuka woke up. There was a note on the kitchen table written in his thin, precise pen strokes stating that Kio would be by later to pick Ritsuka up and return him to the house. Ritsuka took this news with relief instead of anger at being dismissed so impersonally. He was growing sick of Soubi's constant presence during his time at the apartment. Kio would be a nice change.<p>

Kio came for him about midday, seeming pleasant enough. But as he was helping Ritsuka pack his things into a bag, Ritsuka caught sight of a pained expression flit across his face more than once. It was like a wince, but slower, like the pain was a constant, instead of a surprising and momentary thing.

"Kio…what's wrong?" asked Ritsuka.

Kio looked up to meet his eyes. He smiled sadly. "Nothing new. I'll be fine. Really."

Ritsuka didn't know what to say to that, but he felt like it would be wrong to just let Kio suffer. What if there was something he could do for him?

"…it's Soubi, isn't it?" he eventually managed. Inside, he already knew the answer.

"Let's go, Ritsuka. The car's waiting." was all Kio said in reply.

He had taken off fast and was practically marching forward. Ritsuka had to jog to keep up.

"Why don't you just tell him to stop?"

Kio laughed brusquely. "Good one, Ritsuka. As if I have that kind of authority." He jammed the key into the trunk and opened it for Ritsuka to toss his suitcase into. Ritsuka did, not speaking again until they were both buckled into the car and en route to Soubi's House. The heater poured warm air on them.

"Maybe you don't have that kind of authority, but it doesn't mean you don't have that kind of power."

Kio cast him a sidelong glance. "What are you getting at?"

Encouraged by the positive response, Ritsuka continued, albeit a bit nervously. Afterall, he had just spent ten days sleeping with the man Kio was in love with; the same man that Ritsuka was now attempting to give romantic advice about, which Ritsuka knew he was less than qualified for. But he still felt compelled to try. It was Valentine's day. No one should be heartbroken on Valentine's day.

"Soubi lets you live with him for free. You've already said yourself that you take on clients sometimes as favors or whatever. I think maybe even you do it out of spite or revenge." A guilty look passed over Kio's face; Ritsuka pressed on. "Not only that, the first time I ever met you was the first time I've ever seen Soubi do anything tenderly. He reassured you that he would make it up to you, my presence. He even said that he spends more nights with you than anyone else. I'm not saying that excuses what he's doing or how he's making you feel. I'm only saying that obviously he has feelings for you beyond what he feels for any rent boy like me. Maybe he's just too callous to realize what it's doing to you. Maybe you need to spell it out for him."

Kio was quiet for a few deliberating moments. Rain had begun beading softly on the windows. When they began to fog up, Kio turned the air vents toward them.

"He knows how I feel about him," he finally said, very softly. "I don't make it a secret."

Ritsuka's heart ached in sympathy. He imagined how it would feel to tell Seimei how he felt, only to have Seimei continue seeing other boys-doing more than "see" them, in fact. The very thought was enough to make Ritsuka shudder.

"What did he say when you told him?" Ritsuka asked, trying to speak the words gently.

Kio sighed. "I don't want to talk about it, Ritsuka. Really, I appreciate what you're trying to do but it's just not a problem that can be fixed."

Kio turned away, staring out the window at the rain.

Then he murmured, almost too softly for Ritsuka to hear, "Better to feel nothing at all than to deal with… this."

* * *

><p>Later, Ritsuka reflected that he didn't think Kio really meant it. But he let it go after that, knowing by the look on Kio's face that the subject truly was closed and if he pursued it further Kio might actually start screaming at him. The whole thing was depressing. His mood had pretty much deteriorated from glum to downright mopey by the time they had reached The House, and he ignored the other boys welcoming him back. Natsuo and Youji were thankfully nowhere to be found. Ritsuka didn't feel up to talking to anyone, and he certainly didn't feel up to Youji's infuriating taunts and come-ons.<p>

Ritsuka took his suitcase up to his room, declining help from Kio, who looked about as wretched as a dog who'd been found in a storm drain, his green hair limp and dripping across his forehead. Maybe it would have been kinder to let him help, Ritsuka thought, after Kio had disappeared into Soubi's office with a soft click of the door. It would keep him occupied for at least a little while longer. Then again, maybe all Kio wanted to do was find Soubi and scream himself hoarse. Ritsuka was pretty sure that's what he'd want to do if he were in that situation.

He came up short when he opened the door to his shared bedroom and found his bed had been invaded by a package in screaming red, dotted with white hearts and silver handcuffs and wrapped in a large pink bow. It was the epitome of Valentines gift stereotype extraordinaire.

Ritsuka approached the bed warily, half expecting someone (Youji) to jump out from under it and yell "surprise!" before attempting to do unspeakable things to his person. But when he got there, nobody shouted or grabbed him or appeared at all. It was just Ritsuka and his bizarre (bordering on kinky) Valentine's Day present.

A miraculous thought occurred to Ritsuka. Could this have been sent by Seimei? Was SEIMEI his secret admirer? Ritsuka suddenly found himself grinning, feeling giddy. He HAD received a rose from Seimei already. Maybe he'd decided to up the ante now, and found some way to sneak in a gift, today of all days. It was possible. Ritsuka knew Youji or Natsuo or any of the other boys would be perfectly willing to do a favor for Seimei Aoyagi. That thought brought with it the bitter tang of jealousy and fear, because not all favors were platonic, but Ritsuka pushed it back with sheer force of will. If this gift was from Seimei, nothing could be allowed to dampen his happiness over receiving it.

Ritsuka reached forward and took the package. Carefully, he pulled off the wrapping.

Inside was a bear. A plain brown stuffed teddy bear, roughly the size of large house cat. It had black buttons for eyes, and its mouth was stitched on. A small box of chocolates fell from its chubby paws. Ritsuka instinctively grabbed at it as it tumbled downward. He caught it before it could hit the mattress and break open. With the box out of the way, a patchwork heart was visible on the bear's chest. It said "Hot stuff!" and the edges looked as if they were on fire. There was also a pair of plastic handcuffs locked around one paw, the other cuff dangling uselessly. It was a creative touch to an otherwise very standard gift and, if Ritsuka cared to admit it, mildly amusing.

But his heart was quickly sinking. This didn't seem like something Seimei would send. It was too crude, too Youji. At the same time it was too sweet, as odd as that seemed considering the overall theme of the bear. No, this seemed like a familiar and unique sort of perverse mixed with charming. This seemed like...

"Kano," Ritsuka said, thinking the name just as he read it on the gift tag pinned to the bear's ear.

With a heavy sigh, Ritsuka slumped down onto the bed. He let himself fall backward on it, laying completely supine and letting the mattress hold every ounce of his weight. Right now, he didn't feel like he had the strength to hold any of it himself. Not Seimei, then. Kano.

His hopes had been so _high _that the gift was going to be from Seimei. Ritsuka only rarely let himself get his hopes raised in the first place. When you grew up with an abusive mother and an absent father, you pretty much assumed things were going to end badly, or at least end in mediocrity. You didn't hope for things, or let your hopes grow – and certainly not to the point that they didn't even feel like hopes anymore, and they felt like _expectations. _

Ritsuka sighed again. This was what he deserved for presuming Seimei would even think about getting him a present. There was no reason Ritsuka should have given himself that much credit. He shoved the bear away, feeling guilty about it, because it wasn't the bear's fault he was an idiot, but still, the bear reminded of him of the fact that Seimei HADN'T been the one to send it (or send anything else) and Ritsuka didn't want that reminder right now.

He still felt too raw from his long stay with Soubi, and a little irritated with Kano. He was confused now, not knowing if Kano had feelings for him or just wanted a boy toy around in case he got bored. But how can he with what he has to do for a living? Didn't anyone around here get sexually exhausted? Was there something in the drinking water?

But no, Kano couldn't have any feelings developing beyond that. Ritsuka had seen the way he had looked at that man. Ristu, was his name? Scarily close to his own. Maybe that was why Kano was so hung out on him. He could scream out the name and nothing would be weird about it because it was essentially the same name only shortened.

Frustrated, he decided there was nothing for it but to ask. It would be too cruel to just toss the gift and pretend it never existed. It was a cute bear anyway, and he loved chocolates. Hoping somehow this talk would end smoothly and without any blushing from either party, Ritsuka slid off the bed, taking the bear with him.

He checked Kano's room first, then the TV room and the game room, but couldn't seem to find the boy anywhere. He thought about asking someone, but he didn't want more rumors spread about his non-existent love life. Better to simply keep searching; it wasn't like he had anything better to waste his afternoon on.

Eventually he found Natsuo and Youji lurking in a corner, so involved with each other they didn't even notice they had company. Ritsuka was momentarily shocked—-Natuso seemed to be the one pinning Youji against the wall, which wasn't anything Ritsuka had ever been privy to before. Not only had he trapped Youji against the wall, he also appeared to be snacking on his neck like a starving spider. Youji was moaning, which was a little unnerving since it wasn't immediately obvious if he was enjoying being a victim or if he had too much blood loss to form coherent sentences.

Ritsuka shook it off. Natuso wasn't a spider and intellectually he knew that Youji was simply in some sort of mind-fogging sexual spell at the moment. Good, because he really just needed to know where Kano was and be done with it.

"Hey," Ritsuka snapped.

Natsuo pulled back with a frown, looking extremely unenthusiastic about being interrupted.

"Ritsuka," he said, not unkindly, but with absolutely no warmth at all. "You're home. I'm glad. Now go away."

"I won't," Ritsuka said. "Shouldn't you two be saving some energy for The Street?"

Natsuo laughed.

Youji was still clinging to his shirt, looking dazed and ridiculously soppy. "We're not working tonight," he put in. "Now please let me go back to being properly seduced."

"Normally I'd ask you to join," said Natsuo. "But it's Valentine's day and Soubi gave us the entire day off so we can actually spend a little one-on-one time. Check back in tomorrow if you're so hard up for it."

Ritsuka let out a huff that sounded amazingly like a steam engine. "I don't want in on your… I wouldn't… whatever! Just tell me where I can find Kano."

"He's in the prep bathroom, I think," Natsuo said carelessly, already turning back to Youji, who was tilting his head back and exposing his neck like it was a sacrificial offering. "And if he's not there, I don't know and neither does Youji."

"Yeah," Youji agreed, eloquently.

It was a clear dismissal.

Ritsuka didn't even bother replying to that. He left the two lovebirds alone to their make-out session (soon to be more than making out, judging by the moans Youji was still making) and headed for the stairs. What was it about those two that made THEM deserving of finding their true loves?

Well, thought Ritsuka gloomily, _finding _his love wasn't really the problem. It was actually being with him that seemed to be the crux of the matter.

But still…Youji and Natsuo were young, rash, promiscuous, and impolite (to be fair, Natsuo was generally very tactful…it was Youji who couldn't use manners to save his own life). Why did they deserve to be with the person they both wanted when Ritsuka didn't? Was Ritsuka cursed? Was he unworthy?

Maybe it wasn't Ritsuka's fault at all…maybe his mother's abuse had left him so scarred that other people could sense it, and it made them unwilling to do anything more than physical with him.

In any case he was going to get to the bottom of it, at least where Kano was concerned.

It turned out Natsuo's suggestion had been right; Ritsuka found Kano lurking in the prep bathroom by the floor-to-ceiling mirrored wall. He was staring at himself, but he didn't seem to be primping or anything overtly self-admiring. He seemed to be checking his eyes for wrinkles or bags and he looked worried. Ritsuka stopped short, suddenly wondering if this may have been a bad time. He'd never seen Kano look concerned over anything before and it made him feel slightly awkward.

Before he could turn to go, he saw Kano's gaze shift from himself to the reflection of the teddy bear hanging limply in Ritsuka's grasp. His eyes then traveled up to Ritsuka's face and he broke into a grin. "You got my Valentine."

Ritsuka nodded. "Yeah, I... thank you. I love chocolates."

Kano turned to face him. "And teddy bears? I thought it might be a bit much. You aren't a girl, after all. Even if you look amazing in micro shorts and five inch platform boots."

Ritsuka felt himself blush to the roots of his hair. He'd never taken compliments well. Those made him feel awkward too, especially now that he was dressing like a Victoria's secret model on a nightly basis. "I've never really had bears before. But this one is, well, it's pretty unique."

Kano smiled. "You know how I like to be an individual."

"Yeah…" Ritsuka said hesitantly. "But….honestly, I don't get it. Why would you give ME a valentine?"

Kano looked puzzled. "Why not?"

Ritsuka sighed. Clearly Kano was going to make him spell this out, and Ritsuka didn't know if he could.

"Kano…" he began. "I SAW the way you looked at that guy. The one who was with Seimei that day when we got roses."

Kano's face was smoothly, carefully blank.

Ritsuka made a frustrated huffing sound in the back of his throat. "You know who I'm talking about Kano, don't play dumb."

Without saying anything, Kano turned back to the mirror.

"Look, I'm just asking….I don't understand why you're over here sending me valentines when you obviously –"

"Ritsuka, you don't get it. Really." Kano said. He sounded calm but something in Ritsuka didn't believe that he was.

For as long as he could remember, he had a gift for reading people. He could sense when someone was trustworthy, when they weren't, how much to protect his heart and how much to care. He could also sense moods and feelings the way one could sense approaching rain by the scent on the air. There was a deep sadness in Kano, so overwhelmingly honest it seemed to encompass the entire salon-sized bathroom.

Slowly, Ritsuka closed in on Kano until he was standing just behind his right shoulder. He looked at the other boy's reflection. His eyes were closed.

Ritsuka touched his arm gently. "I'd like to understand. Will you tell me?"

Kano's eyes opened and he exhaled, long and slow. He stared at the bottom edge of the mirror, where it connected to the bathroom floor, like he was debating the pros and cons of answering and of staying silent.

"It was a long time ago," he finally said. "Back when I was a model. God, it sounds ridiculous to even say the words out a loud. 'When I was a model.' There's no way anybody can say those words without sounding like a completely conceited ass."

Ritsuka laughed a little, thinking it would help Kano feel more relaxed. "But you WERE a model."

Kano nodded. "It wasn't a bad gig. Put on some clothes, strike a few poses, make five grand. Anyway…I met a lot a people every single day. You have to talk to the designers and the agents and the photographers and the makeup artists and the editors and the set designers and God knows who else. One day, I met Ritsu."

If Ritsuka hadn't already been convinced that something a lot more complicated had transpired between the man and Kano than mere acquaintanceship, he would have had all the confirmation he needed simply from the inflection and implication in Kano's tone when he said the name. It was as if those two syllables were more precious than gemstones and took everything in him to say aloud, diminishing every ounce of energy he had. His breathing had become quicker and more shallow. He moved to a lilac ottoman a short distance away next to the entrance way to the showers and sunk onto the cushion. Ritsuka sat beside him and waited for him to continue. With a slightly quavering breath, he did.

"I still don't even know exactly what his title was, or if he had an official one at all. He knew my clothing coordinator, Nagisa Sagan. She wasn't a particularly pleasant woman, but she's highly respected in the fashion world. So I always kept quiet and let her do as she pleased. Most people did. She would stand around nagging at the seamstress for hours while I was being fitted and my clothes pinned to the correct size. It was during one such occasion that Ritsu came in. Just walked right in like he owned the dressing room and gave Nagisa an envelope she had been screeching about for a half hour. I'm not sure what it was; it wasn't important. But he looked up at me then. Our eyes connected and I just-" he cut off here and seemed to shudder. "I can't even explain what it was like. It was as if... like we were..."

"Like you had found what you had been looking for," Ritsuka supplied.

Kano nodded eagerly, and his expression seemed to brighten. "Yes! Only I didn't know I had been looking for anything! Or especially anyone."

Ritsuka knew the feeling- he knew he had been looking for SOMETHING, but he never knew it was SOMEONE until he had met Seimei. And when he had, it felt like coming home.

It was a feeling that still made Ritsuka want to weep out loud. In relief, in exhaustion, in joy. But now the edges of that feeling were singed with doubt. He had found what he had always needed to complete himself, only it wasn't his. Sympathetically, Ritsuka covered Kano's hand. Kano spread his fingers to let Ritsuka's slip through, the squeezed and held on tight.

"I thought I was going mad. I was worried Ritsu would think I had some sort of mental condition, staring at him the way I was. But he was staring back. I was used to it because by then I was well known—a celebrity of sorts. But then Nagisa asked him what he thought about the dress she was wearing, and without taking his eyes off of me, he told her it was alright." Kano looked up and shook his head. "He actually walked a circle around me, sizing me up, and said, 'But this… this is a masterpiece."

"So he was talking about both you and the outfit," Ritsuka mused. "That must mean he—"

Kano cut him off. "But Ritsuka that's just it. The seamstress had taken off my outfit to sew a hem. I was standing there in my underwear. He was calling ME a masterpiece. Oh, and Nagisa knew it." His fists clenched. "And she HATED me after that."

Ritsuka couldn't help but giggle at that, serious as Kano was being right now. It sounded as though this 'Nagisa' person had had her eye on Ritsu.

"What did she do?" he asked.

"Threw a random outfit on me and practically pushed Ritsu out the dressing room door. I remember he was wearing a suit at the time, a grey one, and his tie got jostled in all the commotion Nagisa was making trying to get him out of there. And I remember that I just…WISHED so hard that I could have straightened it for him. I don't know why such a small detail like that stands out to me. Even after all this time, it does."

Ritsuka nodded. Little things about Seimei stood out to him every time they met.

"Well…after that, Nagisa started sabotaging me. And I mean that with all seriousness. She would give me outfits from the bottom of barrel…arrange to have my shoots cancelled. Once, she even convinced one of the stylists to send out on the runway without any makeup or hairstyling. Slowly and surely she sabotaged my whole career."

"What a bitch." Ritsuka said, simply.

Kano nodded. "All of that I could have handled on my own. Yeah, it sucked but I could have come back from it. But she didn't stop there…she spread a rumor about me near the end, and THAT'S what ended it at all."

"What did she say about you?"

"The official story is that an anonymous source told the press that I was getting all my cover spots and runway finales by doing _favors_ for the photographers and designers. But the truth that I know without a doubt, without proof, is that Nagisa told them that."

Ritsuka didn't know what to say. How could she DO that someone? Kano had a career…a real future ahead of him. And some heartless bitch was jealous enough to snatch it all away because Ritsu preferred Kano to her?

"But even through all of her sabotage..." Kano continued. "Ritsu still came by. A lot, actually. And he would just watch me be made up or dressed or whatever happened to be going on. We didn't really talk, but...I wanted to talk to him. And I kept having the crazy idea that he wanted to talk to me too."

Ritsuka thought that it sounded like Ritsu DID want to talk to Kano, and said so.

Kano shrugged. He turned back to the mirror with a peculiar expression, and talked more to it than to Ritsuka when he went on. "It's ancient history now. I'm here and...I'm sure Ritsu's content with whatever life he's made for himself. We aren't in the same world, even if we were before."

"But that's crazy!" Ritsuka burst out, startling Kano so badly that he jumped. "He obviously feels something. He remembers you after all this time. He gave you that rose. You're seriously going to sit there and tell me that after all that, you still have no hope?"

"There was no hope to begin with. That's what I'm saying. He's much older than I am, much more powerful. He's a somebody. And who am I? I'm a used-to-be. A child star who is no longer a child and no longer shines. What would he do with something like me?"

"Love you." Ritsuka's words were so fierce he could feel the power of them vibrate his own marrow. "He could love you. Isn't that worth more than pride?"

Kano looked astonished. "It has nothing to do with pride. It's honor. I'm not honorable. Even if he did feel the connection for me that I feel for him, once he found out what I was, he'd want nothing to do with me. I'm soiled goods."

He knew that Kano didn't mean to, but Ritsuka felt the conviction like a slap. Is that what they all were? Soiled goods? Is that how people of good standing, with honorable reputations and sparkling names, see them? Soiled goods?

Misreading his speechlessness and the sudden draining of blood in his face, Kano place a hand on Ritsuka's shoulder and the other under his chin. He tilted Ritsuka's face up. Kano was taller than he was, but not by too much. The inclination of his head was only slight, but Kano looking down at him from such a close proximity made him feel dwarfed.

"But you, Ritsuka," he whispered. "You can see me. You can see past all the damage and find what's good in here." He took his hand off Ritsuka's shoulder and placed it to his own heart, then pressed it to Ritsuka's chest. "And I can see you. Not soiled goods. I'm so into you, Ritsuka. We could be good together."

Ritsuka blinked and swallowed hard. He hadn't expected such an abrupt and unabashed confession. "My body," he started nervously, unsure where he was going with this at first. "I...you're interested in my services. The bear has handcuffs. I-"

Kano laughed, and for the first time since Ritsuka met him, it sounded forced. "Minor joke," He said. His hand was still pressed to Ritsuka's ribs. "I am interested in that. I won't lie. But it's not only that, I assure you."

"So what else is it?" Ritsuka demanded, starting to feel suddenly snappish. How could he go from talking about Ristu like he hung the moon to talking about Ritsuka like he was the sun?

"I want to protect you, take you out, hold you. I want you and I to be an us, like Natsuo and Youji. I want to come home and have someone to come home to. And I'd love it if that person were you."

Ritsuka backed away from Kano, suddenly needing space. "Okay, so you have a crush on me," he said. "That doesn't mean you're OVER Ritsu. I mean, Kano – "

"But I AM over him, Ritsuka. I've accepted it. We aren't meant to be."

Ritsuka nearly screamed in frustration. "How can you say that?! Didn't you see the way he looked at you, even after years of separation? Don't you get what it means?"

"He just thought I could still be a good lay – it doesn't change the fact that I'm soiled goods to him and he's utterly, utterly not."

"Kano." Ritsuka said firmly, trying to calm himself down. "You're not even making sense. I get that you like me but I'm not meant for you. Ritsu is meant for you."

"No, he's not, Ritsuka." argued Kano, with infuriating certainty. "He's just a fairy tale."

"Has everything in you just shriveled up and DIED?!" yelled Ritsuka.

"Yes. But because of you, I feel life blossoming in me again."

"You're not feeling that because of me, you idiot! It's because you saw Ritsu again! You're feeling it because of him!"

And at that moment, the bathroom door swung upon and revealed Kio.

"Umm, is this a bad time?" he said.

Kano spoke in the same smooth, cool manner that was his norm, which Ritsuka found both admirable and annoying at the moment.

"As per usual, your timing is perfect, Kio. Ritsuka and I were just finishing up a most endearing conversation."

He started for the door, shooting Ritsuka a look over his shoulder, heavy with hidden meaning. "I get that you're still hung up on things, but I'll give you time to consider my offer." He paused in the doorway. "The doors are open to you. Sincerely."

Kio stared after him as he walked out, clearly nonplussed. "What in the—"

But Ritsuka shouted over him, hoping the words would follow Kano out. "I haven't given up! Maybe everyone else has given up but I haven't! I haven't!"

Now Kio was looking marginally more concerned. "Ritsuka, calm down."

"I'm fine!" Although his tone clearly implied otherwise, Kio paused half-way toward him. "I'm ready to be primed and polished for tonight. Let's get it over with."

Ritsuka went through Kio's usual Makeover Routine: shower, scrub, rinse, polish, lotion. And that was just for his skin. After that was hair maintenance, which consisted of a wash, conditioning, styling, and setting. Ritsuka sat under Kio's enormous professional-grade hair dryer dome while Kio busied himself with shaping and buffing his nails, then filing them down to blunt, smooth shapes. The end result looked nice and well-cared-for, but still vaguely masculine.

Ritsuka noticed while Kio worked that he was being unusually quiet. There were dark half-circles under his eyes, like eyeliner recently smudged. And the eyes themselves were pink and puffy.

Ritsuka knew that Kio had been crying. It didn't take much to guess why, and Ritsuka spared a moment to think again about what a perfectly dickish human being Soubi was. But Ritsuka had already pushed Kio too hard before when he mentioned Soubi, so he kept those thoughts to himself. If Kio didn't want to talk about it, Ritsuka wouldn't force him.

"So," Kio murmured. "What was that charming discussion between you and Kano about?"

Ritsuka didn't much feel like going into _that _topic either, but it was talk about Kano or sit in silence, and sitting in silence had been uncomfortable thus far.

Ritsuka wondered where to start. "Well," he chewed his lip, considering. "He sent me a valentine."

Kio glanced up from Ritsuka's toenails, having moved on to those after finishing his hands. An orangewood stick hung limply in his fingers. "DID he now?" Kio sounded intrigued.

"Yeah, and he thinks that me and him 'would be good together,'" Ritsuka muttered. He hoped his tone of voice would make it clear what his feelings on the matter were.

"I think so, too." Kio's tone was curt and very final. "He's handsome, don't you think?"

"Do you mind," Ritsuka started, his voice became more shrill on each word until he was positively screaming. "telling me why the hell everyone is always pointing out to me how good-looking people are as if that's the most important thing to me!?"

Kio looked about ready to slap him across the face. "Would you knock it off? People are going to think I'm raping you in here."

Ritsuka folded his arms and threw himself back against his chair, turning his face to the side. Kio uncapped a bottle of glittering red polish and began applying it to Ritsuka's toes.

"Look, all I'm saying is that you two are a very good match. You're the proper age for each other, similar background, same line of work, personalities are compatible. Not to mention, you seem to bring out the best in him. He's stronger around you, more energetic, more interested in things. He wants to take care of you, and let's face it Ritsuka, you're nothing if not a sad, wet little kitten or classic damsel in distress."

"I - you - what does that even - how-!" Ritsuka stuttered incoherently. "I am not a damsel in distress!" he finally managed to shout.

Kio nodded serenely. "A kitten, then. Whichever metaphor you choose, the point is, you need someone who will take care of you. And Kano is in a position to do that."

Ritsuka couldn't stop himself from muttering, "Seimei's in a _better_ position to do that."

Kio's eyes narrowed, and for the first time, Ritsuka actually felt wary in his presence.

"Ritsuka, listen to me, and listen well, because I'm not saying this again. Seimei is NOT an option for you. The sooner you learn that, the better off you'll be. He's going to break your heart and he won't give a damn when he does. And if you don't realize that fact _now_, you'll spend your life pining after somebody who will _never _be to you what you wish they could be. No one knows that better than me."

Ritsuka's jaw set stubbornly. "There's no way you can know that about Seimei. Anyone can get their heart broken by anyone. I could get my heart broken by Kano just as easily. It's so ridiculous."

"It is not ridiculous, my determined little butterfly. I have literally seen Seimei Aoyagi crush a heart to pixie dust and feel nothing at all for it." Here Kio pointed the nail polish wand at him. "And you know what I've seen Kano do? I've seen him date a nervous, shy little boy named Ciel who Soubi scooped up off the street. I've seen him make this kid his priority. I've seen Kano comfort him and take on extra clients because Ciel just couldn't stomach it. I've seen Kano take his entire savings and give it to Ciel to get him out of here."

"I couldn't do that to someone!" Ritsuka protested, feeling horrified at the thought. "Date them and then take their life savings and run? Who do you think I am? Do I look like a slut to you?"

"No, but once I'm done with this polish, you'll at least look like a prostitute." Kio turned back to Ritsuka's toes. After a few seconds hesitation, he met Ritsuka's eyes and chuckled.

Ritsuka felt himself soften, just a bit. He sighed. "Kio, I know you're just trying to help me, and I appreciate that, but you're wrong. I know in my heart that you're wrong. And even if you aren't, can't you see that I can't just take it on your word? Can't you see that I have to _try_?"

"Drop him _now_, Ritsuka, or you'll end up just like me."

Ritsuka could do nothing but sit and stare. Kio's eyes were fierce and intent. He cleared his throat, but whether it was because of feeling awkward or feeling upset, Ritsuka couldn't tell.

He capped the nail polish and tossed it back into his basket of assorted colors, mumbling something that sounded a lot like insults regarding fantastical ideas about love. Ritsuka didn't comment, deciding it just wasn't worth assuming position as mini-Soubi and upsetting Kio further.

"Instead of all this wishy-washy nonsense, why don't you tell me what started all this about Kano asking you out?"

Holding out one hand to allow the application of clear nail color sealant, Ritsuka squeezed the other between his knees. Kio promptly swatted at him, screeching about how it takes a solid ten minutes for polish to be truly dry enough to be touched.

After mumbling a half-hearted apology in which Ritsuka wasn't even sure made sense, he said, "Kano gave me a valentine. That bear over there was part of it." He pointed, and Kio's gaze followed the trail.

"Uh huh," said Kio. There was something suspiciously like glee lighting up behind his big, sad eyes.

"What?" Ritsuka asked. Dread was clenching up his stomach. "Please don't tell me you're happy for me because if you do—"

"And why shouldn't I be?" Kio dipped the nail brush into the sealant and pulled up Ritsuka's other hand. "I think you and Kano are a _perfect _match."

Ritsuka sighed. What part of "perfect match" involved dating someone you weren't actually attracted to, whilst pining over someone you WERE attracted to?

"Think about it," Kio went on. "You're both in the same line of work - "

Ritsuka snorted derisively.

"- you're similar ages, you're both living under the same roof, you're already friends...it's a match made in heaven."

"Kio." said Ritsuka sternly. "You really don't get it. It wouldn't work out. I don't want Kano, and he doesn't even want me. He's in love with somebody else, or at least close to it, but he refuses to just admit it, and instead he's going on about me and him getting together just to distract himself from the guy, and honestly I feel like he's being a damn coward about the entire thing."

"And he probably thinks you're being a damn dreamer about your little fantasies and it's either pissing him off or turning him on." Kio took a deep breath. "Or both, if you're lucky. Hate-sex. It's absolutely criminal."

Kio said the word _criminal_ like sugar addicts said _chocolate_. Ritsuka tried to close his mind off from the disgusting image of Kio and Soubi having rough and sweaty—

He shook his head wildly.

"Ritsuka, don't mess up your hair," Kio snapped.

"I'm off to have hooker-sex with some random creep; my hair is going to look like a tumble weed in two hours anyway. What's it matter?"

For a long moment, Kio stared at his face. Ritsuka kept his eyes cast downward. Tears were beading along his lower eyelashes. He sniffled, not meaning to, but unable to help it. He still didn't like the idea of sleeping around, even if it was all for his livelihood.

Gently, Kio nudged his chin up. He lent a tiny smile. It was barely there, but it was friendly and compassionate.

"Hey. Ritsuka. You know what I think? I think you look up to me, and I think you see me watching Soubi. You see plainly what my feelings are, and you see how no matter what I don't let go."

"You don't," Ritsuka whispered, very seriously. "You don't give up and that's how I know it's real."

Ritsuka didn't think it was possible for a smile to look more like a frown than Kio's did at that moment. His heartbreak was miles long, leagues deep, and years long. And it seemed to Ritsuka that every night of loneliness and longing was etched into the very soul of him, visible only through his eyes.

Terror momentarily seized Ritsuka's throat, and he almost choked. Was this really his future? Was he really going to be fixing up rent-boys for hire in another ten years, just waiting for Seimei to show even the slightest hint of returning his feelings? Would he seriously be bedraggled and puffy-eyed on Valentine's day while Seimei bought a hooker to keep as a two week love-slave?

Kio took his hands, full of solemnity, almost like he was making Ritsuka a promise.

"Real or not, it's time I stopped feeding it. Soubi's not treating me well, and Seimei will do the same to you, mark my words. It's time to make a clean break. For you...and for myself."

Ritsuka had no idea what to say. Kio was standing up for himself, which was good, but he was doing it at the cost of crushing Ritsuka's dearest hopes and dreams, which was not.

Kio nodded anyway, as if Ritsuka had voiced his complete agreement with the idea. "A clean break. Once and for all."

Then, out of nowhere, Madonna's "Like a Virgin" blared from a corner of the bathroom.

"Is that...is THAT...your ringtone?" Ritsuka asked, half amused and half horrified.

"Only when Soubi calls or texts." Kio replied dryly. "I'm not picking that thing up, though. I don't care what he wants."

Ritsuka hesitated, then said, "Well, do you mind if _I_ get it?"

"Do whatever floats your boat."

Ritsuka got up and retrieved Kio's cell phone, seeing that it wasn't a call but a text. He tapped the OPEN button on-screen and saw the following words:

_I want to see you...meet me for dinner? Chez Paris. Eight o'clock. I want to make things up to you, doll._

His eyebrow arched. "Um," he held the phone up, as if Kio could actually read it from that distance. "I think you're going to care what he says this time."

"Nope," said Kio, almost comical in the infantile way he turned his head to the side and scrunched up his nose.

"You're really going to want to see this," Ritsuka said, with a humorless half-laugh. He was staring at the text again. When Kio didn't say anything, he figured it was his duty—in the name of true love—to deliver the message anyway.

"_I want to see you," _he read aloud. "_meet me for dinner?"_

Kio's arms dropped from a particularly ridged cross. He turned his head to face Ritsuka again.

"…_ Chez Paris," _Ritsuka went on.

"Chez Paris!?" Kio repeated, the words much more high-pitched than Ritsuka's had been. "That's the first place he ever took me to!"

"_Eight o'clock."_

"But that only gives me two hours!"

"_I want to make things up to you, doll."_

"Doll!" Kio wailed. His eyes were still puffy, but he was definitely looking far more cheery than he had only seconds ago, and he sounded like a school-girl. "I need something to wear! And my hair is an absolute nest!"

He suddenly focused on Ritsuka. "Get out." He pointed toward the door. "You look absolutely delicious and I need this beautification cavern all to myself to primp until I'm yummy enough to eat off of. Now scram."

He crossed to Ritsuka in three strides and yanked his cell away.

"Hey," Ritsuka snapped as Kio flapped around him, chasing him toward the hallway. "What about making a clean-break!?"

Kio slammed the door in his face.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: If you noticed the absence of you-know-who, don't worry. He'll be showing up soon!**

** To be continued….!**


	14. Chapter 12

**Authors Note**: Magic_Mind and Bratchild3 would like to thank you for your continued support of this fic.

Let's get to it! Enjoy!

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><p><strong>Chapter 12<strong>

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><p>Genya, a cab driver who had a "special arrangement" with Soubi, was annoyingly chatty on their expedition across town. Because Genya was such a talker, it was revealed to Ritsuka that Soubi's arrangement was a free night with a client for Genya whenever he upheld a favor for Soubi—tonight being the delicate task of escorting Ritsuka safely into the home of Tokino Fujiwara for the evening.<p>

Opportunely, Genya revealed that he also had a girlfriend—the sick bastard—and that she was pretty upset with him for taking up a job on Valentines day. Ritsuka was pretty certain she had no idea what the job actually entailed. Though that revolted him, it didn't concern him at that moment. He was preoccupied with the notion of sneaking away from Tokino's apartment and making the short walk to Seimei's penthouse on foot.

This girlfriend of Genya's seemed to be sending him near twenty texts a minutes, and Genya had actually been itching so badly to read them that he tossed his phone back to Ritsuka and asked him to read them aloud. This, in Ritsuka's opinion, sided in his favor because it meant that as soon as they were parked, Genya would be preoccupied with his cell phone.

Which is precisely what happened when the cab jerked to an abrupt stop at the curbside.

Genya reached backward blindly for the phone, and Ritsuka handed it over without a second's hesitation. As soon as he was sure that Genya had his nose buried in the lighted display, texting as fast as his thumbs would allow him, Ritsuka left.

Not wanting to draw Genya's attention, he tried to be as casual as he could. It was difficult to take graceful, easy steps. Ritsuka's insides were screaming for him to get a move on already, and _not_ to the Fujiwara household. There was only one place he wanted to be right now - and as far as Ritsuka was concerned, Soubi could go screw himself if he didn't like it.

He looked back at Genya. The interior of the cab was still lit-up, his dark head bent. Cars were speeding by on the cross street, their headlights lighting up the entire courtyard of Tokino's apartments.

Ritsuka glanced up at the building. Like Seimei's, it looked beautiful and expensive, but not overdone. People in this part of town had class, that was for sure.

Several of the apartment windows were lit up. From the slip of paper in his pocket, Ritsuka knew that Tokino's was number 432. Fourth floor, front facing. His eyes scanned to the window he was almost certain was the one. Soft yellow light filtered through featureless curtains; Ritsuka couldn't see anyone watching for him.

He sprinted down the sidewalk, not stopping to spare a glance back at Genya. It was dark and cold again, and it had been raining on and off. The puddles were bright with the reflection of street lamps and a full moon overhead. Ritsuka misjudged his step once and soaked his left foot up to the knee with street water; it made him laugh. It was so similar to the day he had first met Seimei by the cruel vending machine that had eaten his money.

Ritsuka was going so fast that in mere minutes he was there. He paused to take in the sight, gasping for breath as he did. The sconces on the building walls were softly shining with a golden light. Various expensive cars were pulling into the driveway. The building was gleaming with polish, sparkling almost like one of the stars overhead.

Seimei's place.

God, he was so happy to see it. Nothing was going to stop him. Not Soubi's stupid probation or Kio's warnings or Kano's offers. Ritsuka was here because he wanted to be. He burned to know if Seimei wanted him to be too.

With that, Ritsuka raced to the front doors, a smile stretched wide across his face. He reached out for one of the glinting golden handles and pulled.

…the door didn't open.

Ritsuka yanked again, and again, over and over until it felt like his biceps would tear, but, each and every time, the door refused to yield.

Inside, Ritsuka could see a stout man dressed in a blue uniform. He looked to be standing inside a kind of lobby, and he was jabbing his index finger very sternly to the right. Ritsuka felt himself heat with anger. What did that guy want from him? He was trying to get IN, not go AROUND.

Then Ritsuka spotted a white sign with bold, black lettering, posted just to the right.

**NO VISITORS WILL BE PERMITTED WITHOUT KEYCARD OR EXPRESS PERMISSION OF A **_**MONTEBELLO GOLD**_** OCCUPANT. **

Ritsuka had no idea he would encounter any sort of problem getting in. But then the only time he had ever been there had been when Seimei brought him, and then they simply pulled into the garage and took the elevator.

Blinking, Ritsuka stepped back, but he looked at the man inside again with pleading eyes. The man's face tightened, and he hitched his thumb toward the sign again. Ritsuka was briefly visited by the wicked thought that if he were to flash what was beneath the Burberry duster jacket he was wearing, the doorman would probably think twice before turning him away.

But that wasn't Ritsuka. He used his body to survive, not to get what he wanted.

Instead, Ritsuka held up his right hand to the side of his face, using his thumb and little finger to make the shape of a telephone. He hoped the doorman would take pity on him and answer the door. _Since that's his job_, Ritsuka thought bitterly.

The doorman rolled his eyes quite conspicuously before getting up from behind his podium and walking toward the door. He certainly took his time doing it. Ritsuka shivered and rubbed his hands up and down his arms as he waited.

When the man got there, he opened the door only as wide as was necessary for him to stick his head out into the icy wind.

"What do you want?" he asked brusquely.

Several biting and quite snarky remarks popped into Ritsuka's head, but he dismissed them. If he were rude, it would only aggravate the doorman further.

"Please," he said, as kindly as he could. "I don't mean to be a bother. Could you ring the penthouse and let him know I'm here to see him?"

The doorman looked startled. "Mr. Aoyagi? He doesn't usually like to be disturbed. If he wasn't expecting you—"

"He's going to want to see me." Risuka sounded far more confident about that than he felt. In actuality, he was starting to get worried that Seimei would be annoyed at Ritsuka bothering him and tell him to never come back again.

But, no. Seimei wasn't like that. He wasn't. They had met in the middle of the city by chance and he seemed happier than ever about it. He had even introduced Ritsuka to all of his friends.

The doorman still looked skeptical. There was a worried crease between his brow and he was gnawing at his lower lip.

"Really," Ritsuka went on, playing the man's nervousness to his advantage. "If he finds out I came by and he wasn't alerted, he'll be pretty unhappy."

Another moment of hesitation, and then the man nodded and disappeared back inside the lobby. Ritsuka could see him round a large desk and pick up the receiver of a white and gold French style phone.

It was still sprinkling; Ritsuka tried to squeeze the droplets from his hair and comb his fingers through the tresses. Seimei seemed to like looking at him, but every time they had seen each other, Ritsuka had been fresh and prettied-up.

The doorman came back quickly, far too quickly for him to actually have had a conversation. Ritsuka knew what he was going to say before the words even left his mouth.

"Mr. Aoyagi is either not at home or not inclined to take calls at the moment." And then, in what was a clear dismissal, "I'll let him know that you stopped by."

Ritsuka felt his eyebrows draw together. "Did you leave a voicemail?"

The doorman blinked slowly, as though the concept of voicemail was utterly below him.

"Our residents prefer not to use their limited time listening to disembodied voices."

Ritsuka had to really fight to keep the anger out of his voice. "Well, could I at least wait for him inside?"

"As the sign clearly states," the doorman replied pompously, gesturing once again to it, "no visitors are permitted without a keycard or permission of an occupant."

A sudden disturbing thought occurred to Ritsuka: perhaps the reason that the doorman was so rude was not Ritsuka himself, but how he was dressed. Sure, he was wearing a coat, but maybe the doorman could guess that only scantily arranged bits of fabric were underneath. Maybe the doorman could just SENSE that Ritsuka was a prostitute. Maybe the sign's entire reason for existing was BECAUSE prostitutes tried to get into the Montebello Gold, hoping to snag clients who paid handsomely.

"Okay, Thank-"

The door was slammed in his face.

Dejected, Ritsuka turned and began making his way slowly back toward Tokino's apartments. He had been feeling so hopefully about this, so elated. He was sure Seimei would be happy to see him. And now…

Now he was wondering how he could have been so stupid. It was Valentine's day, after all. Valentine's day, and Ritsuka had honestly assumed that Seimei would just be sitting around at home, and alone on top of it.

He was probably out on a date. A real date. With a real person. Not a prostitute he had paid for, but someone he was actually interested in as a human being and not just someone who was able to perform sexual favors.

Ritsuka clutched his stomach. It hurt so bad to think about. What kind of person was it, anyway? Probably taller than Ritsuka. More handsome. Or pretty? Maybe Seimei was in the market for a _wife. _Someone he could raise a family with and show off to his family. Not some lowly little rent boy who looked barely fourteen and fit for nothing more than a porn film.

He choked on a sob as Tokino's apartment came back into view. This was his life. A new apartment every night. A new client every night. Some good, some bad. Some disgusting. And one-Only one-who had enough in him to break Ritsuka's heart.

Not caring very much how he looked to this new client, he didn't bother smartening himself up at all. Hell, maybe this guy was into the just-beaten, smeary-eyed hooker look.

This building had a lobby as well, but he was able to get inside and look at a call box on the wall. He depressed the button for Tokino and was instantly met with a reply.

"Soubi sent me," Ritsuka said, realizing he sounded about as unenthused as he felt.

"Perfect. Please come right up."

The button for Tokino lit up green and Ritsuka heard the elevator off in the corner open its doors. With a sigh, Ritsuka got inside, pressing the button for Tokino's floor.

The elevator took him up gently, while pleasant but bland music filtered in through its speakers.

When Ritsuka arrived on the correct story, the doors opened with a chime. The hallway before him was clean and smelled like citrus cleaning products. The place seemed well-kept and reasonably priced. The kind of place Ritsuka always imagined himself in, back when he still thought his art could support him. Back when he still had dreams of a better life.

Tokino's apartment was number 432, the last door on the right. It was already standing ajar, and a man in some comfortable-looking slacks and a dark green sweater stood in the doorway. He smiled at Ritsuka, and his teeth were perfect. Just as expected—the man was an orthodontist, after all. The smile was real. It wasn't forced and the warmth of it reached his eyes. Though this eased Ritsuka's mind a little, nothing about it made Ritsuka's heart somersault or his stomach flutter with a single butterfly.

"Hi," Ritsuka said when he reached Tokino. He kept his hands deep in the pockets of his jacket. Beneath the folds was an ensemble fit to make a stripper blush. Thigh high fishnet stockings with a red garter belt and matching red micro shorts that were so tiny, the white belt with the heart buckle was nearly as wide as they were long. His top was asymmetrical—a tight, nearly see-through white which had a spaghetti strap on one side and a short sleeve on the other. It left his midriff bare. Kio had hooked a silvery chain across his navel, and the red heart-charm fell just below his belly-button.

"Hi, Ritsuka," Tokino said, it a friendly voice that made Ritsuka feel like he were a patient in a dentist's office. He stepped aside. "Please come in. It's extra cold tonight. I have it all warmed up inside."

Ritsuka nodded politely and stepped around Tokino into the comfortably warm apartment. The interior was all modern abstract; the furnishings were black iron with curly-cue legs, and every surface was dotted with some sort of mini-sculpture or vase twisted into unusual shapes, all of them in loud colors. The couches were hot red-they looked cushy, but were again an extremely unusual shape. Ritsuka had the impression he had just stepped into the pages of a Dr. Seuss classic.

"Can I take your coat?"

Ritsuka smoothed the surprised frown that had formed before turning around. He managed a smile that had Tokino's widening. "Sure."

Instinct was actually telling him to clutch his coat tighter, but he viciously stamped it down. Shyness would do nothing except delay the inevitable. So he undid the oversized buttons and casually pulled the garment from his shoulders, all inhibitions draining away in the face of defeat.

Tokino whistled lowly, in an appreciative manner which came off as more impressive than creepy. "Kio must be the genius behind this ensemble. He always likes to play devil's advocate."

It took Ritsuka a moment to decode what Tokino meant by that. Normally the phrase "devil's advocate" conjured images of his crotchety old grandfather (who had passed away several years ago), arguing with the rest of the family about politics, defending points of view he didn't even hold himself. Ritsuka didn't understand how such a phrase related to Kio and the wardrobe he had chosen. But then Ritsuka realized that maybe Tokino was actually twisting the words on themselves: treating them as a veiled slight on Soubi's character. If Kio was his advocate - his right hand man in the business of selling the bodies of young boys - then surely Tokino must mean that Soubi himself was akin to the devil.

Tokino seemed to know that Soubi wasn't an upstanding gentleman, not by any stretch of the imagination, and that put Ritsuka more at ease. Sometimes he couldn't stomach the thought that _anyone _could view Soubi as a good-hearted entrepreneur.

Ritsuka laughed ruefully. "Kio likes to do a lot of things where Soubi is concerned."

Tokino smiled knowingly. "Yes, I sort of figured that. He's not exactly…_subtle_ about their relationship. If it can be called that. But anyway, let me show you to the bedroom."

With that, Tokino gestured toward a softly-lit hallway. He walked in its direction with a casual grace that Ritsuka could identify but not appreciate.

Ritsuka's heart pounded as he followed Tokino down the hall. Soubi had been right; Tokino was certainly not disgusting, and he held onto that small miracle, reminding himself of that over and over. He was a perfectly normal man and was treating Ritsuka with as much courtesy as any prostitute could hope to receive.

A small voice in the back of his mind whispered that Seimei always showed him MORE courtesy than a prostitute could hope for, but Ritsuka did his best to stamp it out. Seimei was off doing God knew what with God knew who, and Ritsuka wasn't doing himself any favors to think about him right now. Wherever Seimei was spending the night was none of Ritsuka's business anyway.

Ritsuka's business was here, in Dr. Seuss's apartment, unveiling himself for money.

* * *

><p>"Soubi has me under strict orders to call Genya and assure that he is waiting outside before I allow you to leave my residence."<p>

Ritsuka's fingers faltered on the coat button he had been doing up. He peered up at Tokino, trying hard not to scowl. It was quite a job. It wasn't exactly easy for Ritsuka to hide what he was feeling, and Soubi pissed him off far easier than anyone in his life at the present. But he couldn't tip off Tokino that he was beyond frustrated at this restraint.

"Did he?" He asked, pleased with himself that it came out so smooth and disinterested.

"He did."

"I see he has everyone firmly programmed to treat me like a prisoner. How typical."

"Indeed. He must prize you greatly to go to such lengths." A pause. "Would you like me to help you with that?"

"No, I've got it. Thanks."

In his frustration, Ritsuka had begun fumbling and it took him a few tries to get the rest of his buttons fastened properly. But he had managed. He smoothed down the front and cleared his throat.

"I thank you for your unswerving devotion to his majesty. Call Genya yourself and I will wait with you until he shows up. It's no problem."

Tokino smiled his clinical smile; a smile that suggested true kindness but was detached and impersonal.

"Please have a seat, then. I'll give him a call and we can have some drinks while we wait."

Ritsuka nodded and took a seat on one of the couches. The hot red color almost burned his eyes when he was this close, but it WAS as cushy as he had suspected. Tokino was bustling around the tiny galley kitchen, pouring something carbonated into two glasses.

Idly, Ritsuka reflected that this was the first time he'd gone on a job alone with a stranger. (With Seimei, he had been alone both times, but Seimei didn't seem like a stranger to Ritsuka, not even that first time. So he didn't count.) Ritsuka thought he had handled things as well as could be expected. He almost felt guilty at how calm he was right now. It wasn't right to start thinking of intimacy so….casually. But Ritsuka thought that was better than the alternative: to wretch and cry over what had just occurred. Nothing could take it back now – and nothing was going to keep food on the table for him besides this. He might as well accept it.

But despite his calmness…Ritsuka DIDN'T really accept it. Some part of him was still hopeful that this life wasn't permanent.

Tokino came back into the living room then, holding out a glass. "It's Perrier." he said. "Thought we could use some hydration after all the excitement." He smiled like this was a inside joke between the two of them.

Ritsuka took the glass and drank some, instantly deciding that he hated the taste of carbonated water. Fizz and bubbles were for soda. Water was supposed to be smooth, and simple, and pure.

"Want to watch some TV while we wait?" Tokino asked, not waiting for an answer before he switched on the flat screen.

Ritsuka didn't know what channel the set was on, but whatever it was showing was clearly a commercial. A glittering cartoon castle was towering over a lake. It was nighttime, with a gigantic silver moon in the background, and Ritsuka could see two slender figures on the screen – holding each other and kissing.

The very next thought in Ritsuka's mind was of Seimei.

But he was like a king, wasn't he? Handsome, as royalty always seemed to be presumed; surrounded by luxury; beloved by all who looked upon him; able to pick and choose his company and entertainment. Hired boys, Ritsuka thought savagely. The prettiest ones. And he didn't know really which was worse-Seimei with hired services, or Seimei with normal people doing normal things, like he was doing tonight. He looked at the clock above the mantlepiece, which was a twisting, wrought-iron nightmare that made Ritsuka think of Alice's bizzare Wonderland. Nearly midnight. Surely a proper date would have ended by now. Surely a proper date wouldn't end in certain intimate festivities.

Ritsuka's heartbeat began to accelerate. He could try one more time before going back to The House. This would be his sign. If Seimei was still gone, or worse, if he already had someone with him, then Kio was right, and Kano was right, and his highness Soubi was right and Ritsuka needed to give up the dream. But...

Ritsuka looked back at Tokino, who was casually sipping his drink, content as you please. But if Seimei was there, if Seimei was alone, if Seimei was happy to see him... He had to try. But how would he escape the ridiculous escorting to Genya? Maybe Genya would take him by Seimei's place if Ritsuka offered to give him a- no! Ritsuka sat bolt upright, terrfied at his own thoughts. What the hell was happening to him? He needed to snap out of it. This wasn't like him at all. This wasn't who he was. Soubi was changing him, and he couldn't let it happen. He would make it to Seimei's place, and he would do it without favors. Good old fashioned manipulation was the only way to go.

Somehow, he'd have to use evasive maneuvers. And if it came down to it, he'd simply go back to The House and get Kano to help him sneak out again. He wouldn't be deterred, no matter what.

As Ritsuka plotted, coming up with schemes that were unlikely and ones that might actually work, something miraculous began to occur. Tokino was drifting off. He had set down his cup and had engaged Ritsuka is light conversation in which Ritsuka had all but ignored, feigning interest in whatever television program had been showing, and suddenly Tokino had nodded off. Ritsuka watched him carefully out of the corner of his eye.

Yep…he was dead to the world. The man didn't snore, which didn't surprise Ritsuka. But Ritsuka could still tell that he was in a heavy sleep by his deep breathing. Just to test it, Ritsuka tapped his glass against the coffee table, balancing himself carefully on the edge of the sofa. He was extremely alert to even the slightest sound or movement. Tokino didn't move an inch.

And that settled it.

Ritsuka left the glass on the coffee table and stood up with the utmost care. The last thing he needed was to trip, or upend his glass, or cough. He tiptoed carefully toward the door. Ritsuka's coat was already on and he had brought nothing else to the apartment; there were no stray belongings to pick up along the way.

Opening the door as slowly and quietly as he could manage, Ritsuka spared one glance over his shoulder at Tokino – making sure that he was still fast asleep, and not just pretending in order to catch Ritsuka in the act of sneaking away. But no…Tokino was dreaming. His eyes were flickering back and forth beneath the lids.

Ritsuka didn't spare a thought to wonder what he was dreaming about. He slipped through the doorframe and was gone.

* * *

><p>By the time Ritsuka reached Seimei's complex, he was panting. He had left Tokino's place at a run, and just in the nick of time. Genya had just turned onto the street as Ritsuka sprinted out of view. He had been sure that he hadn't been spotted, but that didn't stop him from doubling his efforts all the way to his destination.<p>

He stopped on the doorstep of the lobby, hunched over with his hands on his knees until his labored breath was somewhat under control. As he unfolded himself and stood upright, there was a sharp tap on the glass door. He started, then blew out an irritated breath as he recognized the same doorman as before. He was staring, completely unimpressed, a "what now?" expression on his face.

Ritsuka raised his hands palm-up and shrugged, keeping his shoulders up to indicate his intended questioning. "Is he home?" he mouthed slowly.

The doorman shook his head, then made a shooing motion. Ritsuka nearly stuck out his tongue, but decided it wouldn't do him any good. Instead, he turned his back to the man and proceed down the first two steps of the porch. It was held up by Corinthian columns; Ritsuka sat on the second step and leaned against it.

Maybe the doorman was lying. Maybe he just didn't like the look of Ritsuka and was keeping him from Seimei because he didn't think he was good enough to be in his company.

Maybe he was telling the truth, and Seimei was still out with God-knows-who.

Ritsuka sighed. It looked like he had two choices: a) to leave immediately and go back to The House or b) stay and wait for Seimei to return, whenever that would be.

If he went back to The House it would all be for nothing. He'd have pissed off Soubi royally, basically admitting that he wanted to see Seimei even though he was on probation. Part of Ritsuka WANTED Soubi to know that. He was tired of operating under Soubi's assumption that Seimei was bad news. But in the end, nothing good would come from it (and probably, something bad would: Soubi would surely extend his probation). Plus, going back to The House now felt painfully like giving up. Didn't he have a dream he was chasing? Didn't he come here for a reason?

If he stayed and waited, though…

There was a possibility that Seimei would return WITH his mystery date. Ritsuka didn't know if he could stomach that. Seeing Seimei actually, romantically, interested in someone else, Ritsuka would probably throw up on the spot. Maybe he could throw up ON whoever it was, he thought with bitter humor.

But there was also a possibility that Seimei would come back alone. That he would smile at Ritsuka and be happy he came. At the very least, he might be flattered that Ritsuka cared enough to show up.

With this, Ritsuka felt resolute. As long as there was a chance of something good coming out of it, he would wait for Seimei to come back, no matter the risk.

Crossing his arms over his knees, he closed his eyes and leaned the side of his head against the column. Thoughts of Seimei chased itself around his brain until he was no longer sure where the thoughts ended and the dreaming had began. But in it, Ritsuka was caged and Soubi was standing in front of it, brandishing a set of keys and telling him he was on probation until he agreed to marry Kano.

Kano was nowhere to be found, but when Ritsuka turned his head, he saw that Kio was in the cage with him. At least, he had thought by his silhouetted profile that it was Kio—same hair cut, same lanky frame, same saddened, puffy-eyed face. But when the man turned his face to the light, Ritsuka saw that it wasn't Kio at all. It was himself, ten years older, and a hundred times sadder. The pain of disappointment and heartache was etched into every line of this grown-up Ritsuka's face.

"Seimei," Ritsuka whispered. This was because of Seimei. This was because Seimei never came for him.

"Ritsuka," his older self said. "Ritsuka, wake up. Wake up now."

With a wrenching force, Ritsuka managed to extricate himself from the dream and open his eyes. Seimei stood before him, crouched to Ritsuka's level, both hands on his shoulders.

Disoriented, Ritsuka blinked up at him, confused about his surroundings. He managed a small sound that had the unmistakable rise of a question at the end.

Seimei smiled, and Ritsuka shivered. The cold from the pavement had seeped into him, bone-deep.

"But what are you doing on my front doorstep?" Seimei asked, not unkindly in the least.

"Waiting for you," Ritsuka answered simply, remembering suddenly where he actually was and what was happening. The upshot was that Seimei had indeed come home, and he didn't appear put out by Ritsuka's presence at all. The warmth in Seimei's eyes and voice was wrapping him in a toasty, comforting sensation. And suddenly he felt safe and like he was exactly where he was meant to be. It was the same emotion that enveloped him every time he saw Seimei, or thought about him, or heard his name. Ever since the first day they had met.

As if to prove Ritsuka's delusions right, Seimei removed his coat and pulled it around Ritsuka's shoulders. "You're freezing. Let's go to my car. I have the heater on high."

Wordlessly, Ritsuka allowed Seimei to take his arm and hoist him to his feet. Seimei took him around to the passenger side of the Rolls Royce and opened the door for him. He jogged back to the driver's side, blowing into his hands for warmth once the door was closed.

"How long have you been waiting there?"

Ritsuka shook his head. "What time is it?"

"Near two AM."

"Two hours then. I got here at midnight. The doorman was kind enough to lend me his porch." There was no mistaking the bitterness Ritsuka felt toward that man.

Seimei's eyes cut to his, then back to the forefront as he pulled into the garage. His eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly, but Ritsuka noticed it.

"The next time you want to see me, the doorman will have been informed that you're always welcome. He'll show you to the penthouse. I'll make sure of that." Seimei said, and there was a hard edge to his voice. Ritsuka had never heard it before. Instead of feeling worried or scared by it, though, he felt reassured. He felt…protected. The image of that commercial on Tokino's television came back into his mind, only this time, the silhouettes were of he and Seimei, only this time, Seimei was a knight on a white horse, saving Ritsuka from the evil…doorman.

Ritsuka laughed to himself. He was unable to help it.

Seimei came to a smooth stop in his parking space, making a polite questioning noise as he did.

"It's just…" Ritsuka began, before deciding he didn't want actually share the image in his mind. "Thank you. I'd really like that."

Seimei's smile lit up the entire Rolls.

* * *

><p>When they got into the penthouse, there was a fire going, same as before. It was the only light in the place, and red and gold light danced around the walls.<p>

"Have a seat," said Seimei, busying himself with taking off his coat and gloves and setting his briefcase down in the entryway.

Ritsuka plopped down onto one of Seimei's couches – so much more refined and timeless than the ones Tokino had. He suddenly felt gloomy. Imaginings of where Seimei had just been flooded his brain. Who had he been with? What had they done? Was he eager to see them again? Had he had a good time?

Boldly, Ritsuka decided to inquire.

"So did you have fun on your date?" he asked, glumly. He couldn't keep that pitch out of his voice.

Seimei laughed, like Ritsuka had made some kind of joke. "Date?"

Ritsuka didn't understand why Seimei was trying to hide it. It's not like they were together and Seimei had been cheating or something.

"You weren't here earlier." Ritsuka told him. "I waited for hours, and it's Valentine's Day. You must have been on a date."

Seimei laughed once more, but this time, it sounded more baffled than amused. "No…I was at work. The law doesn't stop for February 14th, I'm afraid."

That was unexpected. "…oh."

Seimei was unfastening his cufflinks when he idly asked, "Why? Were you jealous?" There was a playful smile on his face.

"…maybe." Ritsuka muttered, half embarrassed and half sullen.

Seimei froze in place, one hand still raised. Ritsuka met his eyes and some kind of…something…passed between them.

Seimei looked away, though, and the moment was broken. He finished with the cufflinks and rolled his white shirtsleeves up to his elbows. If Ritsuka saw his hands shake just a bit at the end, it must surely have been his imagination.

"Is there something I can get you to drink?" Seimei asked. He seemed to be looking anywhere but at Ritsuka.

Ritsuka thought about the last thing he had drank. Tokino's not-so-pleasant Perrier. He could still taste its strangeness on his tongue when he swallowed.

"Something sweet?" He asked, tentatively. "No alcohol."

"I think I have just the thing. Make yourself comfortable." Seimei disappeared for a moment and returned with two bubbling glasses. "Sparkling cider?"

Ritsuka smiled up at him from the couch, where he had settled himself close to the fire. "Perfect. Thanks."

Seimei handed Ritsuka his glass, then sat beside him. It wasn't as close as Ritsuka preferred, but it was still companionably close; not the way two mere acquaintances would have sat. Seimei took a long sip of his own cider before setting it down on the coffee table. When he spoke, it was with his full attention.

"What was it you wanted to see me about?"

Ritsuka was immediately arrested by that perfect amber color of Seimei's eyes. They looked extra dark tonight, almost brown. He felt the warmth of it like the pleasant burn of whiskey in his stomach. Or at least, the way he had heard people describe whiskey. And with it, a nearly painful stab of sharp arousal. This, he thought in awed wonder, this is how Natsuo and Youji could work the streets and STILL be hard up for each other. One was work. One was honest desire. Neither were dependant of the other.

"Well, I..." he cleared his throat and blinked, snapping himself out of it. "I was just in the neighborhood so I thought I'd say hi."

He was aware how very lame that answer was, but it was as honest as he could make it without scaring Seimei off with talks of obsession and behavior that was borderline stalker-ish.

Something in Seimei's eyes seemed to freeze-but perhaps that was the wrong word. The warmth didn't leave, rather seemed to solidify and become brittle as glass.

"I see. Soubi had you working on Valentine's day." It was not a question, but there was a strain there in the honey-smooth tone. One perfectly manicured, masculine hand tightened around his cider glass.

Ritsuka had a sudden yearning to feel that grip tightening around more personal places. He looked downward, a blush heating up his face, and nodded.

There was an extremely heavy silence.

Ritsuka squeezed his hands between his knees. "But it's after midnight. It isn't Valentine's day anymore, and it's my day off. I'm allowed to do whatever I want, not whatever Soubi tells me to. So I came here. I thought maybe I could teach you to sketch."

Seimei blinked quickly several times, a small smile blossoming onto his face. His grip on the cider glass loosened.

"That would be… very enjoyable." he said. Ritsuka could hear the sincerity in his voice.

But a sudden worry struck him. "If you've been at work all this time, though, you must be really tired. I should let you sleep. We can always do the sketching again some other time, if you still want to."

Ritsuka was almost to his feet when he felt Seimei's hand on his thigh, holding him in place. The warmth of it burned through his bottoms, and Ritsuka's mouth went dry.

"I'm tired but the last thing I want right now is for you to leave," Seimei said. "There'll be time for sleep later. I promise the clock won't stop because we're sketching together." he added with a small chuckle.

Privately, Ritsuka felt like the clock DID stop when he was with Seimei, in some ways, at least. But that wasn't something he felt he should really voice. Instead, he smiled back.

"Have you got some papers and pencils?"

"Hmm. I may have to do some digging to find any pencils. You stay here and get warmed up."

In all honesty, Ritsuka would have killed to see more of Seimei's penthouse. He'd also love to search about in his drawers and see what sort of things he kept there. His mother used to always tell him that one could learn a lot about a person by what he kept in his drawers, and how he kept it. Ritsuka was pretty certain Seimei's was militarily organized. Probably filed by color as well. But then maybe not. Just because Seimei was tidy didn't mean he was borderline OCD about it.

His musings on the possible contents of Seimei's drawers managed to keep him occupied, and it didn't take long for Seimei to return with a thin stack of paper and a handful of plain yellow number 2 pencils. Each one was sharpened to perfect points.

"Okay, Ritsuka." He opened his fingers and let the pencils roll off his palm onto the coffee table. "What will we be sketching tonight?" He sat himself beside Ritsuka again and handed him one of the papers. He kept one for himself and laid the rest of the stack on the table.

Ritsuka searched about the living room, considering. "Hmmm. It should be something relatively simple to start with."

He paused on their cups, thinking that would probably be the best option. But cups were so boring. He wanted this to be fun for Seimei. Memorable. He wanted Seimei to look back on it and smile.

A grin overcame him. Seimei seemed to be unable to help but grin back. "Has the fine young artist decided on a subject?"

Without breaking eye contact, Ritsuka reached into the front pocket of his coat and produced a small square item, glinting blue in its foil packaging. "I have."

Seimei collapsed against the back of the couch, laughing louder than Ritsuka had ever heard him laugh before. "I see." he said through his amusement. "Is this the traditional way to begin studying art?"

Ritsuka giggled. "I wouldn't know. I never took a formal class."

Seimei made an impressed-sounding low whistle. "And to think that you can do all that without training."

To cover up his spectacular blush, Ritsuka reached for one of the pencils. "Well…you want to get the basics down first." he said, hoping to sound knowledgeable and scholarly. "You have to walk before you run, after all. A condom package is good for your first still life because –"

Ritsuka interrupted himself by glancing over at Seimei, who had recovered from his hilarity, and was watching Ritsuka with a mixture of contentment and interest. It was clear that Ritsuka had his full attention.

It was a heartbeat before Ritsuka realized he was still in the middle of a sentence. "It's good for your first still life because it has 90 degree angles while still having some decent opportunities for learning how to shadow 3D objects."

"I am your grasshopper, O Learned One," Seimei said with mock-solemnity, taking up his pencil. "Teach me The Way."

The teasing and jokes came easier as the lesson moved forward, and in barely any time Ritsuka had released all his inhibitions. Seimei was just so easy to be with, to talk to, to laugh with. He had to use his eraser a lot, and unfortunately he didn't have any of the neat white plastic erasers that Ritsuka liked to keep on hand. The end result was that Seimei's sketch had a cloud of gray surrounding it from so many erase-jobs, but it turned out rather well for a first attempt. He clucked his tongue when Ritsuka told him so.

"You're too kind. Really."

"Now you have to sign it," Ritsuka told him. He picked up Seimei's deserted pencil and handed it back to him. "Bottom right corner. Name and date."

"Anonymous won't suffice?"

Ritsuka shook his head. "No, it has to be signed and dated. It's important. Memories aren't accurate enough. You have to record things otherwise it can get skewed. You can forget."

Seimei stared at him, then nodded slowly. "Yes. I have photos that are dated, with names on them, for that very reason. You're extremely bright, Ritsuka. You think deeply about things."

"I care about my memories," said Ritsuka. "Shouldn't everyone?"

Another nod. "To memories," he said, and signed and dated the sketch.

Ritsuka itched to ask if he could keep it, but he didn't know how to say it without seeming too weird. Instead, he made Seimei promise to keep it himself.

"You need something to compare your drawings to as you get better. You'll see your progress. Keep it, okay?"

Seimei kissed his fingertips and crossed his chest with them, just over his heart. "I promise. I'll start a Ritsuka lesson sketching portfolio. How's that?"

"That's acceptable," Ritsuka said. He felt satisfied that there was an open end to these lessons, and that it wouldn't end here. He'd have a more solid excuse to come back next time.

"Goodness." Seimei was looking at his watch. "It's after four AM. Allow me to drive you back. I want to assure you get there safely."

Ritsuka's smile faded quickly. "But, um, I thought…," Shyly, he picked the packaged condom from the table and held it up. "Don't you want to use this before I go?"

"Use it?" Seimei repeated, almost absently. He was staring, very clearly thunderstruck. "But it's your day off."

Under ordinary circumstances, Ritsuka was pretty certain that he would take this reaction as an insult. He would think Seimei didn't want him and that was why he didn't immediately swoop Ritsuka into his arms and carry him off to the bedroom.

But fortunately for Ritsuka, he paid far more attention to Seimei than simply the words coming out of his mouth. He noticed the pulse point in his throat become more erratic, his warm eyes darkened, he swallowed audibly, and he seemed to be fighting to keep his gaze from straying downward.

Emboldened by these signals, Ritsuka pushed himself up to his knees on the couch. "I told you," he said, and began unbuttoning the coat. "I'm allowed to do whatever I want on my days off."

Seimei's eyes seemed to pop when he peeled back the coat and let it fall from his shoulders. He'd been in trampy outfits in front of Seimei before, but this one really seemed to take the cake. Perhaps it was all the red. Or maybe it was how decorative all the charms were-Seimei seemed to get stuck when he spotted the heart charm dangling around Ritsuka's flat navel.

"You can touch it," Ritsuka told him. He had no idea where this sudden ostentatious behavior was coming from, but it seemed to be working. Seimei reached out and pressed his index finger to the belt of the belly chain and slid it down the long charm, the metal pressing into Ritsuka's skin, heavy with promise.

Ritsuka swallowed back a moan. He was already becoming aroused. Heat had flooded into him from every angle, pooling low in his stomach. Breathing rapidly, he pulled down his micro shorts and tossed them away. Seimei's eyes became very round; but he seemed pleased. This only served to bolster Ritsuka's inexplicable confidence. He fisted his hands in the collar of Seimei's shirt and pulled himself into his lap, anchoring his knees on each side of Seimei's hips.

"I want to play," Ritsuka whispered against Seimei's lips. "I feel like I'm burning up inside and you're the only one who can make it better."

He was met with no resistance when he cuffed Seimei's wrists and pulled his hands up to his waist. Once Seimei had a secure hold there and Ritsuka was sure he wasn't going to let go, he lifted the condom and tore it open with his teeth, holding eye contact.

Seimei's eyes were glassy with what Ritsuka hoped was want, pupils dilated to twice their normal size. Suddenly Ritsuka felt him dip his fingers underneath the elastic band of his underwear. Seimei rubbed hot circles into Ritsuka's skin.

"Come closer," he murmured, voice deep, pulling Ritsuka forward in his lap.

Ritsuka scooted closer and felt their bodies touch. Seimei's heart was pounding. Ritsuka could tell, even separated as they were by their shirts. Seimei's chest was hard, neither overly muscled nor skin and bones, and he was looking down at the two of them, transfixed.

It was quite a picture they made, down at the bottom. They were hip-to-hip. Seimei's were shifting minutely back and forth; Ritsuka knew he was trying to create some friction there. It was clear that Seimei was as excited as he was. Ritsuka arched his back, pressing himself against Seimei's arousal even as he made the curve of his bottom more accessible to Seimei's hands.

Seimei exhaled sharply, like the wind was being knocked out of him. Ritsuka felt his hands caressing and clenching, caressing and clenching.

"Do whatever you want. I'll handle this part." Ritsuka told him.

Seimei's answering nod seemed to cost him a great deal of effort.

And with that, Ritsuka slid his hands down from Seimei's shoulders to the miniscule bit of space between their hips, and rubbed with slow, heavy strokes. He was pleased to see the profound effect it was having; the bulge there swelled beneath his touch, growing hotter and firmer. Ritsuka traced a line through the slacks from base to tip, his own blood spiking up several degrees at the whimper this earned him.

Seimei's hands-strong and gentle and teasing and _just right-_felt their way back to the front. He caressed downward, over the thin top, Ritsuka's bare midriff, pausing to tug at the chain, circle his belly button, tug his lacy underwear almost roughly to the side.

Ritsuka tore open Seimei's slacks, feeling around inside until he had a proper grip to pull him out through the opening in the front of Seimei's boxers. He rolled on the condom, then snapped his arms around Seimei's neck and pressed their mouths together.

The kiss lingered, moist and quivering. Seimei's tongue brushed briefly against his, and Ritsuka answered back with a determined thrust of his own. His arms relaxed, hands trailing along Seimei's collarbone to his shoulders. He ripped open the shirt, letting buttons fly, and felt the vibration of Seimei's laugh tickle his lips as the shirt was discarded. Ritsuka broke away from the kiss and pushed Seimei down onto his back.

He positioned himself, Seimei's hands gripping his hips again. It was hard, and fast, and deep. He found a position which angled Seimei into a spot that made Ritsuka cry out over and over and ended things for both of them with quick, blinding intensity.

Seimei was gulping for air when Ritsuka came back to himself, his dark head still resting back against the plush arm of the couch, his amber eyes closed. His curls were more defined around his hairline, and damp with sweat.

Ritsuka, his lingerie now twisted and bunched, fell forward onto Seimei's chest. His head found the perfect pillow on Seimei's shoulder, and he pressed his face against the side of his neck. The crown of Ritsuka's head just touched Seimei's jaw line. Softly, like a flower closing in on itself for the night, Seimei's arms enveloped him.

They lay there for long moments, Ritsuka listening to the sound of their heartbeats coming down, and Seimei's breath just riffling the top of his hair.

And for the first time in what felt like an insufferable amount of time, Ritsuka felt like he was exactly where he was supposed to be, and that everything was right with the world.

* * *

><p>Hours later, Ritsuka was jolted awake by a loud banging sound. He jumped in Seimei's arms and found that Seimei had been just as abruptly pulled from sleep. His eyes were still dulled with fatigue, but he was looking around wildly. Seimei had fallen asleep shortly after their activities, totally exhausted. Ritsuka had watched him sleep for a few minutes, debating the merits of getting up and going back to the House. It wasn't long before he had decided <em>fuck it<em>, then closed his eyes and let sleep take him.

"What was that?" Ritsuka asked, trying not to look scared.

"I don't –"

The banging came again, louder this time. Ritsuka could place it this time: it was someone knocking on the door. They sounded insistent.

"RITSUKA! Get out here! I know you're in there!" the someone shouted. Scratch 'insistent.' They sounded _pissed._

"That sounds like –" Seimei began.

"Kio," Ritsuka finished for him, dully. He slumped against Seimei's chest. "He's all in an uproar because I didn't go back last night."

"But isn't it your day off? Why does he –"

"Ritsuka if you don't open this door RIGHT NOW, I swear to God – " Kio shouted, and started pounding on the door over and over again without a pause.

Seimei seemed torn between uncertainty and faint amusement. "Perhaps we should answer that."

Ritsuka sighed. "Yeah. He might have a heart attack out there."

Seimei chuckled as Ritsuka got to his feet. His clothes were in absolute disarray: his shirt was bunched and wrinkled, underwear askew and half off, fishnet stockings rolled down to his calves. Ritsuka made an effort to straighten everything out into its proper place, doubting that he would be able to hide what had happened between them even if his clothes were immaculate. He was sure he reeked of sex.

Ritsuka couldn't help watching as Seimei stood up and tucked away everything below the waist. Whether he forgot to button and zip his slacks or simply didn't care to, Ritsuka couldn't guess, but Seimei did retrieve his shirt from the corner of the living floor. Only after he slid his arms through the sleeves did he seem to remember that the buttons had all been ripped off.

"Well," Seimei said, looking down at himself and laughing. "Maybe I can pull it off as some kind of fashion statement."

"Yeah…" Ritsuka replied distantly. Standing there half-dressed, Seimei was damn hot. Not that he wasn't always, but the deliciousness of him in such dishevelment made Ritsuka want to attack him all over again. Probably he would have, too, but he was out of condoms.

"RITSUKA!" Kio screamed suddenly. "GET OUT HERE _NOW!_"

Seimei moved to the door, not a lick of confidence gone. The dignity with which he opened it and said "Why, hello Kio. Good morning to you," was in such stark contrast to his obviously defiled appearance that Ritsuka had to cover a sharp burst of laughter with both hands. Seimei shot an amused look back at him, over his shoulder.

"Why do you hate me, Seimei Aoyagi?" Kio asked, with exasperated calm. "I've been a good artist, have I not? I've turned scores of droll little boys into beautiful butterflies. I've put in a good word for you. I've done all the dirty work for you, being the third party point of connection between you and Soubi so you don't have to talk to him yourself. So I just want to know. I just want to know _why _you hate me."

"I find hate to be a rather strong and distasteful word," Seimei answered. He leaned into the doorframe, supporting himself with a forearm. "And I fail to see what our neat little comradeship has to do with—"

"Save it," Kio snarled. "Just give me back Ritsuka. He's up to his cute little panda bear panties in trouble. Got it?"

Seimei looked interested. "Ritsuka has panda panties?"

Kio looked barely able to keep from slapping Seimei across the face. His hair was puffed up like an agitated chicken and his eyes seemed to flare up in purple rage.

Ritsuka appeared at that moment, ducking beneath Seimei's arm to dart through. He was fumbling his belt, trying to quickly refasten his micro shorts.

"I don't understand, Aoyagi," he snapped. "You have never had a favorite before. Why now?"

Seimei merely shrugged, looking colder than he did when he were alone with Ritsuka, but seeming unperturbed by Kio's foul mood. "Maybe there's just never been anyone good enough to gain my favoritism before now. Other clients have favorites. I'm allowed one as well."

"Wrong one, Seimei!" Kio squawked, flailing his arms about. "You picked the wrong favorite!"

"Forgive me if I disagree," Seimei said, and he flashed a smile in Ritsuka's direction. Ritsuka promptly smiled back, feeling like a co-conspirator with Seimei, the two of them against the world.

"Well, tell that to Soubi, why don't you?" Kio demanded. He yanked Ritsuka through the doorway by his sleeve. "He put Ritsuka on _probation_ for spending so much time with you!"

One of Seimei's eyebrows arched up with a dangerous sort of calm. "Is that so?"

"It is so! Soubi wants you to _stay away_ from Ritsuka!"

There was no trace of humor left in Seimei's features. "And if I don't?"

Kio boggled. Ritsuka could tell he was beyond infuriated at Seimei's response, and that he was also totally devoid of an adequate answer to the challenge.

"Soubi's personal feelings on the matter don't dictate the company I keep." Seimei said.

"That's the problem with you, Aoyogi," Kio said, sounding positively vicious. "_Nobody's _personal feelings matter to you."

Seimei only stared.

"Come on, Ritsuka," said Kio gruffly. "We're leaving." And he steered Ritsuka down the hallway in the direction of the elevators.

Ritsuka barely had a moment to look over his shoulder and shout "bye!" before the doors were closing on the image of Seimei, standing in the doorway and watching them go.

* * *

><p><strong>AN**: To be continued!


	15. Extra : Seimei -- The Box

**Authors Note: ****Hello everyone! We continue to be thankful for all the reviews, follows, and faves for this story. This story is still not on hiatus- we still just keeping getting busy. Trust me, it's just as bothersome to us as it is to those of you waiting for more.**

**Keep in mind this is just an extra. We're hoping the next CHAPTER wont be long in coming.**

**Meanwhile, enjoy, review, and be merry!**

* * *

><p><strong>Extra: Seimei - The Box<strong>

* * *

><p>Seimei stared as Kio and Ritsuka left, one hand on the doorframe, watching until the elevator doors closed around them. Something was prickling in the back of his mind, almost like an itch he couldn't scratch. It was <em>concerning<em>.

Had Ritsuka been truthful when he said he had been "maybe" jealous?

Really, with the manner in which he had said it, Ritsuka had practically turned that "maybe" into a "yes." A full-out admission.

But was it true? And why would he say it?

Seimei went back into the penthouse and shut the door behind him. Something to eat was in order, and then bed. He had fallen asleep with Ritsuka earlier-falling asleep after sex, rather than arranging transport for the boy and seeing him gone straightaway, was concerning in itself-but that hadn't been nearly enough rest. Seimei truly hated working all night; it left him drained and zombie-like. And, normally, he hated surprises, but the surprise he felt at seeing Ritsuka on his doorstep was of the pleasurable variety.

Toast was the fastest thing on the menu. Seimei enjoyed cooking but that was only when he had gotten more than five hours' sleep the previous night. Right now it was toast. Adding butter was the maximum effort he was willing to put into his cuisine at the moment.

Normally he brewed tea from fresh leaves, but today he poured orange juice into a plain glass cup and took that with his freshly buttered toast to the breakfast nook to eat. In summer he quite enjoyed taking his breakfasts at the small table on his balcony, and regretted the rain currently pattering against the rooftop. A bit of fresh air wouldn't have hurt, even if the young woman in the penthouse of the neighboring building often emerged onto her own balcony to stare hopefully over at him, her outfits absurdly suggestive of her intentions.

Oh, but her style of erotica had nothing on Kio's flair for fabulous. Particularly on Ritsuka; though, Seimei had a sort of muted dread bubbling up in the back of his mind that anything Ritsuka wore would be a might more enticing than anything anyone else wore.

_Panda bear panties_...

He set down his half eaten bit of toast and rubbed his temples as images of what exactly those looked like formed unwilling in his mind.

He had just had him. He had JUST had him, and Seimei was already anticipating their next encounter. He did not consider himself obsessed with sex, though his appetite for it was plenty healthy, but sex with Ritsuka was something he was steadily becoming addicted to.

Suddenly, Seimei managed to both lose his appetite and feel famished at the same time. He stared at his unfinished toast and orange juice and willed himself to eat.

_Who is going to take to you to the hospital if you pass out, hmm? Even if you were to drop dead, exhausted and malnourished, who would know? Who would care?_

An image of Ritsuka swam into his mind. Ritsuka would care - and would likely call an ambulance out of his sheer concern.

...the toast and the orange juice weren't nearly as appetizing as they were five minutes ago. Seimei could at least put a name to the prickling in the back of his mind now: anxiety.

anx·i·e·ty - noun 1. a feeling of worry, nervousness, or unease, typically about an imminent event or something with an uncertain outcome

He was anxious about Ritsuka, and the "uncertain outcomes" their association would have. Was Ritsuka really serious about being jealous? Was he joking? Flirting? Perhaps just playing the part of a good consort? Was he that honest? Why? What did he mean by it? What did Ritsuka hope to gain? What was the object of the statement?

Seimei's thoughts swirled in unending circles like this for longer than he cared to admit. Exhaustion set in even more powerfully as they did, and Seimei found himself wanting nothing more than a deep, deep slumber.

He slid his hands down his face-the hands, he remembered, that Ritsuka had sketched-and pushed himself up from the table.

He gathered his dishes, flattening the toast by stamping his cup onto it. He dumped it all into the sink, not bothering to dispose of the remaining food as he ought to have done. The maid would deal with it when she came in for the day, long after he had set out for the office. He was much too bothered to deal with such mediocre tasks, much too unbalanced.

And with a sickening swoop of his stomach, he was forced to admit to himself that he was afraid. He was becoming frightened of Ritsuka's power over him because Seimei didn't do well with emotion. "Emotion" was about as far as he was willing to allow the himself to admit because he had loved once. How he'd loved, and nothing in the world had destroyed him so completely.

Perhaps though, it was because he was a child, and children loved without caution, with trust and innocence. Although, most people who had known Seimei then would have been hard pressed to label him innocent.

Much as he wanted to dive into bed, he took a detour to his bedroom closet. Behind the hangings of three-piece suits and polo shirts was a shelf with a single keepsake box. He pulled it from its place and knelt like a child onto the floor. He pulled off the lid.

There was a photo inside, and one tiny lock of hair. Seimei held it to his nose and breathed in gingerly. Illogical as it was, Seimei had the faint worry that if he ever inhaled the scent too strongly, it would all be used up, and that fragrance of baby powder and no-tears shampoo would be gone forever. The lock of hair was so darkly brown that it was nearly black, and shiny-straight. It was bound together with a blue ribbon. Seimei laid it carefully aside and turned to the picture.

An infant, with that same shiny-straight hair, and softly smooth skin, and rounded, happy cheeks, smiled up from the photo. A thousand memories flooded Seimei whenever he saw the image. Patty cake and baths in the sink. Pureed food in tiny, labeled jars with an airplane spoon.

Toji.

Seimei hadn't even been a teenager, but he'd taken better care of baby Toji than some adult parents did with their own children. He wasn't old enough to have reached puberty, much less have a child of his own, but Seimei had still felt, in some inexplicable way, that Toji WAS his own - though in another way.  
>Toji's grandfather and his own had been brothers. As one drew down the family line, the relation grew more distant; however, it was still Seimei's parents who had taken in the baby when his father had been killed and his mother had been hauled off to a mental hospital. Seimei hadn't been very happy about the new arrival at first, but that had quickly changed when the social worker had set down the infant carseat in the foyer of their home. The baby was small with huge dark eyes and chubby little fists and legs that kicked happily when Seimei walked over to him.<p>

His mother had been the first to reach down and pick Toji up, smiling down at him and telling him softly, "Hello Little Toji...I'm your Aunt Asako."

She passed him to Seimei's father, Sora, who took him very carefully, as though Toji were made of glass instead of flesh and bone. "We'll all take care of you, Little Toji." his father had said to the baby.  
>Seimei had stood on his tiptoes, craning his neck to see the baby's face again, somehow eager to make those tiny legs kick happily for him once more.<p>

"Do you want to hold him, Seimei?" his mother had asked kindly.

Seimei had nodded without saying a word. He held out his arms expectantly, though he had never before held an infant.

"I think you'd better sit down first, son," his father had said with a chuckle. "To us, he's tiny but to you he might be on the heavy side."

Wanting to argue but knowing it would do no good, Seimei had plopped himself down onto the closest chair and carefully Sora had laid Little Toji in Seimei's small arms.

Toji opened his mouth and made a cooing sound, like an audible smile, matching the one that stretched out his lips. The baby hadn't smiled for Asako or Sora, but he had smiled for Seimei. It had made Seimei feel a surge of responsibility and protectiveness rush through him.

From then on, Toji was His.

Seimei lay the photo aside and pushed the dark lock of hair to one corner of the box. Beside it was that little purple dragon plushy, no bigger than a child's fist, that Toji had carried around with him for two of the three years they had lived together. Seimei had used the money he had gotten from the "Tooth fairy" for his two back molars to buy it for Toji from the toy shop he passed every day on the way to school.

Seimei lived for Toji's smiles, which had graduated from a toothless, orange-wedge shape to a bright mouthful of pearly whites. Seimei read him books and told him stories, buttered his toast in the morning and cut it into quarters, helped him onto his plastic kids stool so they could brush their teeth together.

Asako had made up a room just for him, but she had been wrong. Toji didn't belong in any room but Seimei's, and after his parents had gone to bed, he would slip inside and lead Toji back to his room. It was delightful just to see him toddling on those chubby little legs, making straight for Seimei's bed and then sticking his thumb into his mouth once he laid down. Seimei would lay next to him and make shadow monsters on the ceiling with a flashlight. Sometimes he'd sneak cookies into bed. And other times, they would lay in hushed contentment together, Seimei rubbing Toji's back soothingly or softly singing a lullaby.

Seimei's eyes welled with tears, just as they did every time he opened this box. He refused to let them fall. Crying did no good. It wouldn't bring Toji back.

When Toji was three, his mother managed to escape her confinement - some good-for-nothing lawyer had seen to it to lose her Declaration of Incompetence case - and she had returned straightaway for little Toji. Seimei's parents had tried and failed to keep him. Toji's mother had every legal right to take him back into her custody, and in the end, Toji was taken away. Seimei had spent the entirety of that first night alone in awful, ugly tears, sobs wracking him until his ribs hurt.

In the morning, curled up and exhausted, Seimei promised himself that he would never cry again. He had so far kept that promise. Somewhere deeper, he had promised himself that he would never love again, and that was a promise easily kept.

How old must Toji be now? 17? 18? An adult, practically. Seimei wondered what he looked like. If he was well-cared-for. If he was happy.

Seimei dried his wet eyelashes on the back of his sleeve. With an effort, he put away the memories and the flood of emotions with the box, and managed a shower consisting of a mindful of nothing but meditative blankness. Back in bed, however, as he began to drift into dreams, a smile as bright as sunshine flashed across his mind—and he mumbled a name into his pillow.

"Ritsuka."

* * *

><p><strong>TO BE CONTINUED...<strong>

**-BC3 & MAGIC MIND**


	16. Chapter 13

**Author's Note: **See! Not on hiatus! Please enjoy, and we'd love feedback!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 13<strong>

* * *

><p>The first ten minutes of the ride back to Soubi's House was about as uncomfortable as a theme park after hours—the silence louder and more sinister somehow after so much laughter and cheer. Ritsuka slid his hands into the familiar space between his knees, compressing them until all ten fingers were tingling with the onset of restricted circulation.<p>

There was no chauffer this time. Kio was behind the wheel of Genya's taxi, and Ritsuka couldn't help but wonder about his absence, and also fear for the location of his body, considering how livid Kio seemed. His hands on the wheel looked ridged as talons , knuckles whitened, his hair a positive nest of agitation, and his eyes narrowed to steely slits. Ritsuka's first impression of Kio had been of a colorful parrot, but never had he looked so much like a bird of prey.

But that didn't stop Ritsuka from smiling when a certain billboard appeared on the right side of the highway. It featured Seimei in all of his glory, looking even more polished than usual in a crisp black suit, advertising his law firm.

"Hey!" Kio suddenly shouted. Ritsuka ripped his eyes from the passing billboard and stared at him.

"What did I do?" he asked.

"You're smiling at the very thing that landed you in this trouble in the first place!" Kio exclaimed. "Goddamnit, don't you ever _listen_?"

Scandalized, Ritsuka turned back toward the window and wisely decided not to answer.

"Well, my little hellion," Kio said when they had come to a red stoplight somewhere mid-city. His voice sounded calmer than Ritsuka had imagined it might, if he ever decided to speak to him again, but there was a clear edge of razor-sharp disapproval that did not go unnoticed. "You'd better thank your sex-kitten smile that Kano has a thing for you, otherwise you'd be knee-deep in a shit load of trouble when we get back. As it is, Soubi doesn't know a thing about your little _amourette_."

"My little what?" Ritsuka asked immediately. He hesitated to ask his second question but he had to know. "...will you tell him?"

Kio sighed huffily. The light turned green and he took off a little too quickly for comfort. "It means 'trifling love affair.' And no, I won't. Soubi won't be happy to hear it, I won't be happy to say it, and you won't be happy for him to know. So it will do no good for me to say anything."

Ritsuka breathed a sigh of relief.

"_But_," Kio said warningly, "if you _ever_ decide to do this again, Ritsuka, so help me God, Soubi will know. And that's for your own good, no matter how unhappy it will make all parties involved. Seimei Aoyagi is bad news."

Barely containing an eye roll, Ritsuka asked sarcastically, "So how did Kano become the knight who aided my narrow escape from the wrath of His Majesty?"

Kio took a sharp left that forced Ritsuka to grab hold of the grip-handle above the passenger side door. "I'm sure you've figured out by now that the child is no angel. A snooping little sneak, knows everybody's business all the time. Not that I usually care, mind you, but it can be quite disturbing how good at it he is. After Genya showed up hooker-less and freaking out that Soubi might slaughter him where he stood, Kano magically popped into existence and quickly mapped out a plan. I called Tokino and confirmed that you in fact were not still in his residence, and made a deal with him."

A barely controlled sense of dread rose up inside of Ritsuka. "Oh, God. What? What do I owe him?"

"Not you," Kio said, actually sneering. "You've had enough sexual relations lately. You look like hell and you reek of cum, just for your information. It's highly unflattering."

"Kio! Tell me what the deal is!"

Kio huffed and went on. "Kano—you're right to call him a knight, by the way—is Tokino's favorite boy. And Kano offered him a night of any and all services free of charge if he would call up Soubi first thing this morning and lie his behind off. Basically, he told Soubi that you had fallen asleep and he didn't feel it a kind gesture to send you on your way, chaperone or no."

Ritsuka sat stunned, positively floored by Kano's quick thinking and unyielding kindness. "And… Soubi bought it?"

"Nobody trusts Genya too much," he said. "It's not unbelievable that Tokino wouldn't want to send you off with him if you weren't fully alert."

Ritsuka was torn between relief and trepidation. Something told him that he was REALLY of the hook for his liaison with Seimei. There would be some price to pay, eventually.

However, with that came the overwhelming certainty that it would be worth it. His night with Seimei was everything Ritsuka had hoped it would be. Still, Ritsuka felt that it would only be decent to give Kano some sort of thank you - and NOT the sort of thank that Kano probably wanted. Ritsuka understood that he was currently employed as a prostitute but that didn't mean that he had to be one toward his friends. There was a corner mini-mart store and gas station with a gift shop attached just up the street. That could work.

"Kio?" Ritsuka asked, hoping he didn't sound too plaintive.

Kio cut his eyes toward Ritsuka with equal parts suspicion and exasperation. "What?"

"Can we stop at that gas station? I really owe Kano."

Kio snorted. "Damn straight you do." Then he sighed. "Alright. I need caffeine anyway."

They cut across two lanes to get to the turning lane, clipping of several cars, which honked at them. Kio stuck his hand out the window and gave them a rude gesture with his finger. Ritsuka was covering his face when they pulled up to the mini mart and parked.

Inside, Kio headed straight toward the cappuccino machine, muttering and cranky. Ritsuka was quite relieved to separate himself from him for a bit. He headed toward the attached room with the gifts and began to browse. He still didn't know Kano all that well, but he was certain he would recognize something Kano would like once he had found it.

There were scented candles and incense, beaded friendship bracelets, fairy statues which represented each zodiac and reminded Ritsuka that he had no idea when Kano's birthday was and that probably made him a horrible friend. Because Kano HAD become his friend somehow. It was unnerving really; he hadn't ever had many friends, even in grammar school.

Near the back he discovered a wall covered in shelves, each containing different knickknacks. The third shelf up had a small collection of lacquered Japanese boxes. Some were small as a pill box, others large enough to contain a hat. Ritsuka found one slightly larger than a butter dish, black with a gold dragon on the lid. He inspected the inside, which was clean and soft with a lining of bottle blue silk. He smiled. If there was one thing he knew for certain about Kano, it was that he loved to sneak around and keep private little trinkets. Certainly he could use a box like this for something or other.

Taking the box carefully, Ritsuka made his way back to the main part of the mini-mart, toward the smell of coffee and sweet bread and tobacco. He stopped dead as he neared the counter. The two women behind it were holding a small poster- one with his face on it. Breathless, he flattened himself against a shelf stocked with pretzel bags, out of sight.

The women were whispering to each other, loudly. The kind of whispers that were only whispers because the people speaking wanted to heighten their own feelings of illicit conversation.

"Didn't that lady seem just weird?"

"Totally. I can't put my finger on it but there was something."

"I mean, I know I'd be freaked out if my kid were missing, too, but..."

"Yeah, it's like, you don't have to go and rattle the whole chocolate bar shelf. Jeez."

"This kid is actually pretty cute, though. I wonder if he's legal."

A coquettish laugh. "Who cares? I'd do him in a heartbeat."

Ritsuka shuddered with horror. He almost gagged.

"Well, anyway, if somebody sees him, we have her number."

The conversation devolved in a critique of various nail polish brands.

"Ritsuka, you look like you've seen a ghost." came Kio's voice from his left, and Ritsuka jumped about ten feet in the air. "Or, alternatively, Soubi without his hair combed. That's a frightening sight."

"Those ladies," Ritsuka whispered. "They have the poster."

"Poster?" Kio moved to look around the shelf at them, but Ritsuka's hand shot out and grabbed his collar. He waited until Kio's gaze was focused on his serious, intent one.

"My mom's been here."

Kio's eyes widened, realization obviously settling in. Soubi knew all about Ritsuka's situation with his mother, and Ritsuka knew that Kio was his closest-perhaps only-confidant. What Soubi knew, Kio knew.

"Okay." Kio's voice had dropped to a whisper too. "You're going to stay on my left side, out of their view, We'll walk straight out of this isle and when I turn and walk toward them, you'll keep on walking straight out the door and get into the car. They won't have enough time to get a good glimpse of you. Here." He handed Ritsuka his car key. "Get inside and lock the door. And give me this." He took the lacquered box. "Ready?"

They marched out of the isle, Ritsuka's blood thundering in his ears as he plowed straight for the door and made a free break for it. He didn't dare to look back until he had gotten inside the car and locked the doors. He could see Kio at the counter and the back of the two women through the window. They all looked to be laughing and talking. Ritsuka let out a long, tight breath and sunk into the seat.

His mother. _God_. Ritsuka had too many memories and emotions surrounding the subject of her for him to make sense of them all. There was love, of course; the woman gave birth to him, and raised him, despite the hell she had put him through. There was anger. There was fear - fear that she would find him and a smaller, more secret fear that she wouldn't. Ritsuka couldn't figure out that smaller part. He didn't want to be found. Not at all. Maybe he simply feared the idea that he would have no family left in the world. That without her, he would be alone, at least in that aspect of life, forever. He also felt pity. Mother was sick-very sick, in a way that most people wouldn't understand or accept. Ritsuka understood it. Ritsuka accepted it. Which made it all the harder for him, since it wasn't in his power to cure her. And the whole terrible jumble of feelings, summed up and rolled into one, overwhelmed him. It was the chief reason Ritsuka rarely thought of her.

As the initial adrenalin of his almost exposure began to melt, he realized that more than anything it was anger burning it away. How dare those two gossipy hags laugh about his mother. How dare they pass judgment and speak ill of someone they knew absolutely nothing about. Sure, she had issues. She had horrible, embarrassing issues, but it wasn't her fault. And beneath that lurked someone who was kind and loving, warm and sentimental. Someone who bought storybooks and grape scented bubble bath for her child, sang hymns to him when he was sick and hung his stupid drawings all over the house. And she was smart too, he thought savagely, directing his hate toward the mini mart employees. She had managed to find her way to this part of the city. The exact, perfect part of the city that would make it difficult for Ritsuka to go out too often.

There was a knock on the window that badly startled him, but it was only Kio. He gestured for Ritsuka to unlock the door. After taking a moment to exhale his shock, he did.

"It's okay," Kio said. "They didn't even notice you. Too easily distracted by me chattering about their bad dye jobs, which I pretended to like. Don't say I've never gone out of my way and suffered for you."

Ritsuka muttered a "thank you" and of they went. It was only minutes to Soubi's House from here. Ritsuka spent most of the time worrying about what he would do if his mother WERE to catch him, and coming up with no firm plans. The remaining minutes were devoted to thoughts of Seimei. When they reached the House, Ritsuka got out of the taxi robotically. He barely registered Kio telling him something, until the plastic bag containing Kano's gift was thrust into his face. He took the bag by reflex.

"Ritsuka, honestly. Anybody home in there? You're going to need a lot more of your wits about you if you plan on keeping your story straight with Soubi." said Kio exasperatedly, shoving the keys into his jeans pocket and leading the way to the door.

"It's not like I don't have things on my mind," Ritsuka said under his breath. He was aware that he sounded petulant, and that Kio had honestly done him a huge favor to pick him up, but Ritsuka was so TIRED of everything in his life turning into something that worried him, angered him, or depressed him.

With his hand on the knob, Kio turned abruptly to Ritsuka. He studied him for a moment and then said in a low voice, "We all have things on our minds - and occasionally, those things are you and your safety. And I'm willing to bet every dollar I've ever earned that that is not what Seimei concerns himself with. So when we get in here, I want you to go straight to bed and think about the fact that you _have_ a bed to get into, and think about who gave you that. Here's a hint: it's not Seimei."

Several unpleasant remarks danced across Ritsuka's tongue, but he bit them back. He doubted Kio had gotten any sleep and Kio was the one who still had to answer to Soubi. That detail was unpleasant enough without Ritsuka adding a completely unhelpful attitude to the mix. He was tired, too, and all the sparkling happiness that had been overflowing in his chest when he'd woken had vanished like all the bubbles disappearing in a glass of ginger ale. He wanted a shower and he wanted sleep. He didn't want to argue.

"Listen," he said. "How much was the box?"

"You can repay me later. Just go get some sleep." Kio sounded drained, and sad, and a hundred, ragged years old.

"Thank you for picking me up." Ritsuka managed a smile. He wasn't sure how, but he did it.

Kio's eyes softened, then blinked when Soubi appeared behind him and spoke.

"Yes, doll, thank you for picking him up." He was smirking, and Ritsuka felt a prickle of suspicion bite at the back of his neck. Soubi moved up behind Kio and placed a hand on his shoulder, but he frowned when he looked at Ritsuka. "You look distraught. What is it?"

Ritsuka would sleep with a girl sooner than he'd tell Soubi anything about Seimei or his personal feelings about anything. But he was concerned and thought Soubi ought to know he was in danger of being discovered. Soubi had so many creepy connections it was possible some secret service could be set up to prevent anyone from reporting his whereabouts.

"We stopped at the gas station a couple blocks from here. My mother had been there. There were missing posters."

Soubi's pleasant smile looked suddenly plastic. His hand tightened, crinkling Kio's shirt.

"And did they recognize you?"

Ritsuka shook his head, and Kio said, "Ritsuka hid behind a stack of pretzels and warned me right away. We snuck him out and they were none the wiser."

Soubi's hand relaxed. He moved to stand beside Kio and pulled from his pocket a lighter and pack of his signature mentholated cigarettes. "Clever boys."

"It's my mother who's truly the clever one." Ritsuka eyed the cigarette with a sneer. He contemplated snatching it away, hiding it somewhere. Smoking was a habit he disliked only second to lying. Soubi seemed to catch the meaning of the look and, in a surprising act of geniality, put them away. Ritsuka went on. "If she's in this area, it's going to make it difficult for me to go out anywhere. And I like to go out. I like getting art supplies and books and ice cream. Also—" He looked down at his thin hands. "also it upsets me. Knowing she's been so close and knowing I could put a stop to all her pain."

Kio spoke up quickly, glancing at Soubi anxiously as he did. "If you put a stop to her pain, she'll push the restart button on yours."

Ritsuka shrugged, feeling a wave a melancholy wash over him as he did. "Does it matter?"

Weirdly, Soubi glanced back at Kio with a hint of anxiety, himself. "Of course it matters, Ritsuka. You're overwrought from the night's events. It is understandable. Go upstairs and get yourself a good night's-or morning's-rest."

A sudden thought occurred to Ritsuka. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously at Kio. "Wait, how do you know my mom will push the restart button on my pain if I go back to her?"

Kio shifted, displaying an uncharacteristic amount of self-consciousness.

"Soubi told you." Ritsuka said, the gears clicking into place. It wasn't a question.

"Ritsuka." Soubi interjected. He spoke in what he clearly thought was a soothing tone. Really, it just came out clinical and veiled. "It was necessary for Kio to understand something of your past. He helps to care for you, as he does all of the boys, and - "

Ritsuka snorted. Yeah, right, he thought. Inside, Ritsuka knew that Kio knew of his past simply because Soubi told him - and Soubi told him because somewhere, deep down in his heart, Soubi cared for Kio. Trusted him.

Suddenly aware that he had his arms crossed and looked perpetually five years old, he dropped them. "Look—"

"My dear boy." Soubi now moved toward Ritsuka. He slipped one long finger beneath Ritsuka's chin and lifted his head. "I'll take care of everything. I promise."

He hesitated. "Soubi. I… I don't want to cause her any more grief."

"Of course. And that won't happen. I have a way to steer her off your path without her ever knowing it."

Slowly, Ritsuka nodded. When Soubi was hiding something, his eyes became different. Harder somehow, impossible to read, like an expert villain. When he was being honest, it left no room for suspicion.

As if to further reassure him, Kio smiled warmly. "Soubi knows what to do."

With that, Ritsuka began his trudge up the stairs. He was too exhausted to devote more energy to his worries at the moment, anyway. It had been a long night. Ritsuka needed the sweet oblivion of sleep.

It was not yet within his grasp, though. Halfway up the stairs (where he could still feel Soubi and Kio's eyes on him), Ritsuka saw Kano descending. He grinned and clapped Ritsuka on the shoulder when he noticed him there.

"Up pretty late, Ritsuka, don't you think?" he asked. Then he winked, and Ritsuka prayed that Soubi hadn't noticed.

"Yeah. Just going to bed," Ritsuka told him quietly, willing Kano to get his drift and be more discreet. Remembering his gift at the last moment, Ritsuka reached into his bag. "I got you this."

At this, Kano's face lit up so brightly it would have put any Christmas tree to shame. His smile widened even further when Ritsuka held out the box, balancing it on the flat of his palm.

"Oh," Kano said, reaching eagerly for it. "It's so elegant. I haven't had anything this precious since—" he broke off here, seeming to remember himself and the two men still standing at the bottom of the stairwell. "It's perfect. And really useful. Thank you, Ritsuka."

His brown eyes glittered brilliantly as he said it, and Ritsuka swore Kio was holding back some kind of girly squee.

Ritsuka sighed and ran a hand over his face. "I'm really glad. It's just a thank you for everything you've done. For being a good friend." He forced a smile, then went to his room without looking back.

* * *

><p>A few days later, Ritsuka got a day off. For him, "weekends" at the house consisted of doing anything and everything he could think of that didn't involve the House, sex, Soubi, raunchy clothes, or exotic dancing. Mostly, Ritsuka spent his weekend drawing.<p>

He was falling out of practice lately, so consumed with work (if he could really call it that) and sleeping when he could manage it. His sketches had consequently become sloppier and Ritsuka was damned and determined to correct that. He had found a small alcove on the first floor of the House, one with a window above it that allowed for lots of natural light to filter down and onto his sketchbook. This was where he liked to draw. It had the added benefit of being private.

That is, until Kano arrived.

Ritsuka had been halfway through a sketch of a man with dark hair that hung in loose curls around his handsome face, a smile playing about his lips, and a lawyer's briefcase held in his right hand. He hastily flipped the page behind the rest of his sketches when Kano sat down next to him.

"Long time no see, Ritsuka," Kano said. He bit into an apple he had with him. It crunched loudly.

"I saw you today at breakfast," sighed Ritsuka.

"Oh," chuckled Kano. "Right."

Ritsuka got the distinct feeling that Kano had something specific in mind to tell him and was delaying revealing it on purpose, for his own amusement.

"Nice day, isn't it?" Kano asked conversationally.

"Glorious," answered Ritsuka dryly.

"Enjoying your day off?"

"Mmmhmm."

"...how about those Broncos?"

Ritsuka stared.

"You're no fun, Ritsuka." Kano said, after a beat. "Okay, well here's the deal. I'm here to invite you out tonight. To a club."

Ritsuka shuddered in horror inwardly. He was disinterested in clubs even before coming to Soubi's House. Now, the thought of spending free time there felt like nothing more than an addition to his work schedule. Dressing provocatively and writhing against strangers. "Thanks but I'm not really...into clubs, Kano."

Kano shrugged this off. "That's cool. Scratch the club. What are you into?"

He offered Ritsuka a slice of apple, and Ritsuka took it. He crunched into it as he considered. Getting out for a while did sound nice. The sun was sinking lower in the sky and pretty soon he'd have to put his sketchpad away. There wasn't anywhere else in the House he could draw in peace—not anywhere with adequate lighting anyway.

"Don't make fun of me for this, okay?"

For a brief moment, Kano looked hurt. "I would never make fun of you," he said, softly.

Ritsuka offered him an apologetic smile. "I know, it's just that I'm going to sound about seventy years old. But I don't like clubs because I hate loud noise, and that includes loud music. I don't like socializing with people I don't know well. I like a more refined atmosphere. It doesn't have to be boring, just not crazy where expectations of flirting and sex are high. It would be nice if there was a hangout that was more chill."

Kano grinned around his apple. "Have you ever heard of the Moonlight Lounge?"

Ritsuka blinked. "No. What's that?"

Kano took another bite. He looked pleased with himself. "It's a nice place. Quiet, comfortable. They serve wine and grapes and there's all this...I don't know, soft lighting. You sit on couches. There's music in the background, but not loud and not abrasive, and people hang out there. Chat."

"Hmmm." Murmued Ritsuka. "Well, I'm willing to try it."

Kano beamed.

* * *

><p>The lounge was very similar to what Ritsuka had imagined it would be. Red and blue and purple lights shone softly onto burgundy couches, and the smell of fragrant wines permeated the air. Kano led him to a squashy couch in the corner of the room, where no one else was seated. There was a tiny round table in front of it, with a menu standing neatly in the center.<p>

"There's no smoking in this place," Kano explained. "I know you don't like that. But there IS an oxygen bar if you wanted to try that out. My treat."

Ritsuka couldn't understand the appeal of such a thing. Wasn't there oxygen all around you? In the atmosphere?

He said as much to Kano.

Kano laughed. "Oh, Ritsuka." he said, and that was all.

They ended up ordering soda's: diet coke for Kano and a root beer for Ritsuka. They split a plate of fries and a chicken wing sampler. It worked out well—Kano liked the spicy selection and Ritsuka preferred the sweet. They didn't talk much when they ate, which felt relaxing and comfortable instead of the tense awkwardness it could have been. A wall fountain to their immediate left along with the numerous fake trees created the illusion of a rain forest, the soft colored lights glinting gently off the polished floor and black ceiling. Ritsuka found himself sinking deeper into the cushions, full and languid. The music, too, was comforting and easy, switching up between soft rock, jazz, and overly-lovey pop songs.

Kano, it turned out, knew a lot about jazz music and explained to him a time back in junior high when he used it as a sort of personal escape. Ritsuka was about to inquire about what exactly he needed escaping from, since he sounded so disheartened when he said it, when a familiar figure caught his eye.

"Hey," he said, suddenly becoming more alert. "Isn't that guy over there-?

Kano thanked the waitress—who had brought them fresh soda's-and turned to look at the indicated person. His curious expression melted at once into cherry-blossom bashful. He plucked his cup off the table and sipped it as he murmured, "That's Ritsu."

"He's the one who gave you the flower, right? That time when..." Ritsuka's voice trailed off, remembering the rose that Seimei had bought for him, and his smile as he had held it out...so sweet and mysterious and full of promise...

"Yeah," Kano said, and it was almost a sigh. "That's him."

Ritsuka recalled the story Kano had told him about Ritsu. It was a sad, but somehow beautiful story. The ending yet unwritten. And if Ritsuka were any judge (and he was, in this area. A good judge.), Kano was desperately in love with the guy. Kano either didn't know it or refused to admit it or some combination thereof; but, the way he said Ritsu's name all but gave it away for him. Anyone with eyes could see that. Hear it, Ritsuka amended to himself.

He, Ritsu, was watching them. Watching Kano, really. He didn't seem to be doing a good job at hiding it. Maybe because he didn't care who saw him staring. He dressed like Seimei, Ritsuka thought dully. Expensive clothes, ironed, muted colors. Ritsuka couldn't name the expression in his eyes. They never did look away, though, and even when Ritsu blinked, it was like he was still holding Kano's image in his mind.

"What a creeper."

Kano snapped back to attention, looking aghast. Exactly the reaction Ritsuka had been hoping for. He hid a smile by sipping more root beer, waiting for the defense. Kano studied him a long moment, calculatingly.

"Yeah. A little bit."

Ritsuka frowned. "Kano, you don't think he's a creeper. That was the whole point—to get a confession."

"A confession? Are we playing detective here?"

"We aren't playing anything. I'm being serious."

"And so am I." Kano leaned in closer. "He's kind of a creeper and I kind of like it." At Ritsuka's look of pure incredulousness, he went on.

"Imagine it. Seimei coming in and he only has eyes for you. Every single time."

Ritsuka could agree it would be flattering albeit still creeper, and that, yeah, he'd probably like it. And yet...

"But wouldn't it be better if he actually talked to you? If that were Seimei, I'd want much more than a creepy stare."

Kano smiled sadly and patted Ritsuka's cheek. "My little dreamer."

A conversation he'd had with Youji a couple of nights ago swam to the forefront of Ritsuka's mind. His smile evaporated. So far, everyone who had ever talked to him about Seimei seemed to have the same opinion. Kano's personal opinion on Seimei, however, was still a mystery. Ritsuka wasn't quite sure why he had never thought to ask Kano about it, or tell him what everyone else had been saying. Kano knew so much about everyone else, it seemed his opinion might be more aligned with the truth than anyone else's speculations.

Ritsuka set down the chicken wing he'd been picking at and licked off the sweet tang of barbeque sauce from his fingers, not noticing until he snapped out of his thoughts that he had kind of stolen Kano's attention away from Ritsu. He pulled his ring finger from his mouth and picked up a napkin. "Am I really so unrealistic?"

Kano was still staring at his mouth. His gaze lingered there for a second before flicking upward to meet his. "There's nothing wrong with being a dreamer."

"That doesn't answer the question," Ritsuka said, testily. "You call me a dreamer, like I'm walking around with my head in the clouds and can't see what's really in front of me. But you help me with Seimei. You encourage me. You foster these feelings I have and you never ridicule me for it. Everyone else tells me Seimei is a bad guy. He's kind and polite and good in bed, but talk about anything deeper, like he's an actual human being with feelings and thoughts of his own, and everyone cringes away."

Kano was frowning at him now, looking confused and sorrowful.

"I want to know what you think about all that," Ritsuka said, rattling on. "You know more about people than anyone else does and I know you've spent a considerable amount of time with Seimei. Don't try to deny it. I looked in your file."

Kano sighed, finally breaking eye contact. When he answered, he spoke to the table between them. "Ritsuka...Seimei Aoyagi is a heartbreaker, pure and simple."

Ritsuka felt shock was over him. Kano continued.

"I haven't told you my opinion of him up to now because you've already GOTTEN the right opinions of him from everyone else. Why did you need mine? To me, you needed somebody who wouldn't argue against your heart (which is a waste of time, anyway. Nobody can win an argument against someone else's heart.) and who would support you. If you want to know why I think he's a heartbreaker, I'll tell you. But I don't think you'll like the story."

Ritsuka stared him down stonily. "I can handle it."

"You're looking at me like you're readying your troops for battle, and you're going to defend Seimei against anything I have to say. And that's fine. I'm not Soubi's personal defense team. I simply know what I know, and I happen to know that it's the truth, and it doesn't shed a particularly favorable light on Seimei." He leaned back. "So don't shoot the messenger and if you're going to argue about it, please wait until I've finished."

Ritsuka mimed locking up his mouth with a key and tossing it over his left shoulder. Kano began, watching Ritsuka's face intently.

"I know that it doesn't sound that horrible. Seimei broke Soubi's heart. Big deal, right? It happens to scores of people every day. Maybe Soubi deserved it. Maybe it was for the best. Maybe, if they were falling apart, Soubi would have broken it off himself eventually anyway. Blah blah blah. It doesn't matter. The reason it doesn't matter is because none of these speculations are true. None. Here's how it really was: Soubi was beginning his second year in college when he met Seimei, and Seimei was a new senior at the high school.

"Ritu Minami," here he paused and shot a fleeting glance over his shoulder, looking mildly startled and then deflated when he realized Ritsu had vacated the lounge. "Risu was Soubi's mentor. He's a high profile lawyer, you know."

Ritsuka shook his head, indicating that he hadn't known. It made sense now why he had been with Seimei that day he received his rose. He felt slightly bad that he hadn't asked more things about him for the sake of indulging Kano in the invitation to gush about the guy.

"So Ritsu had to attend this college prep seminar-slash-orientation for the high-school kids, and since Risu was Soubi's mentor, Soubi attended as well. That's where the two of them met. Soubi and Seimi, I mean. The connection was instantaneous. For the next four and a half years, they were always seen exclusively together."

Ritsuka's widening eyes must have given away the shock he felt because Kano's voice became marginally more animated.

"Yes! Four and a half years! A not insignificant amount of time, most people would agree. It wasn't a bad relationship either in the sense of there being any conflict. Soubi was obsessively in love, and he did anything Seimei wanted without question or hesitation. A love slave, of sorts. And Seimei... now Ritsuka, what would you make of this? Seimei gave very generously to Soubi-gifts as well as his attention. He never strayed, never so much as looked at anyone else."

A knot of jealous tension had tangled itself somewhere in the recesses of Ritsuka's chest. He shook his head, swallowing back a violent sense of illness.

"It sounds like Seimei was in love."

Kano laughed. Sadly, humorlessly. "Sure. So imagine how Soubi's world as he knew it was shattered the day Seimei walked away, as cool and unmoved as a distant planet. And when Soubi asked him how he could just walk away from someone he loved, Seimei replied, 'Loved? Don't go making ridiculous assumptions. I have never professed love of any kind to you.' And it was true. He had never said it, but Soubi had believed it all those years, and Seimei did not care."

The jealous knot had loosened, but now it felt as if Ritsuka had swallowed a cold stone. Could this seriously be the same Seimei-warm and inviting and gentle-that he knew? Was there a missing piece to this story? He couldn't move, couldn't talk, couldn't believe the person he knew could be capable of such callousness.

Kano's hand closed over his on the table.

"Ritsuka, I know it's difficult to hear. I know. But this is how Seimei is. Why do you think he picks up rent boys and wears no ring? He's too self-centered to love. He isn't capable of it."

"I don't understand," Ritsuka said. "This can't be. Seimei wouldn't do something like that. There must be an explanation."

"The only explanation is that Seimei is cold on the inside, no matter how toasty he makes you feel. You won't be the first one he's made feel that way."

"I can't..." Ritsuka was still shaking his head in slow disbelief.

"If it helps," Kano said, "Next time he picks me up, I'll find a way to snoop around, dig something up. See if maybe he does have a sweetheart of sorts."

That had Ritsuka's attention. "Next time? You think... after the time I spent with him on Valentines night, he's still gonna..."

Kano's expression said very clearly that his heart was breaking for Ritsuka's pain. "Oh, sweetheart-"

But he never got to finish.

A high, excited voice bellowed across the lounge from a tall girl with long, red ponytails. "Ritsuka!? Oh my god, Ritsuka!"

She ran toward the pair of them, ponytails flying behind her. Ritsuka stared, slightly dumbfounded, wondering who she was. Then it hit him.

Yuiko.

She was a girl in his science classroom who used to sit two seats down from him. Ritsuka never had much affection for her, but the two of them had still been friends. They ate lunch together and occasionally worked on their homework together after school. Ritsuka was mortified to see her here.

This was firmly part of his "new" (rent boy) life, and he didn't want anyone from his old, normal (though abusive) life to see it.

Yuiko didn't hesitate when she reached their table, just leaned across it and squeezed Ritsuka tightly.

"It's so good to see you again!" she exclaimed. "Ritsuka, none of us knew what had happened to you! Everyone at school thought you were in a terrible accident or something. Or worse! But here you are - right next to Kano!"

She swiftly moved to hug Kano, who patted her back while shooting Ritsuka a look of fond exasperation. "Hi, Yuiko. Long time, no see."

Yuiko laughed. "Oh, Kano, you're such a kidder. We saw each other just one week ago, don't you remember? At this very lounge!"

Ritsuka boggled. Worlds were colliding so quickly and so forcefully that he felt dizzy. He looked helplessly at Kano, fear of exposure causing hysteria to rise quickly within him.

Kano, obviously sensing the dangers of a Ritsuka melt-down, stood and took Yuiko's shoulders between his hands. He had conveniently turned her rear-facing toward Ritsuka, allowing Ritsuka to pull himself together.

"Listen, Yuiko. You cannot tell _anyone _that you saw Ritsuka here."

A whining note permeated her tone. "What? Why not? Everyone's looking for him! His mother—"

Kano looked her calmly in the eyes. "You may tell them that you saw Ritsuka, that way they know he's alive and well. But you must not tell them you saw him here. Do not mention this part of the city at all. This is very important to Ritsuka's well-being. Do you trust me?"

He said all this with astounding patience. Ritsuka hadn't seen anyone be patient with Yuiko, except maybe Yayoi—another classmate—but that didn't count because that guy was so spastic and excitable that no one would attach a label as serene as "patient" to him.

"Of course! I trust you, Kano!" She turned to wink at Ritsuka. "Yuiko won't tell anyone that you were here! But I'll make sure your mom know's you're A-okay!"

Surprisingly, Ritsuka felt the pressure of tears building behind his eyes. He hadn't recognized in himself until this moment how badly he wanted to comfort the worry his mother must be feeling. He managed a soft smile. "Thank you, Yuiko. I'd really appreciate that."

"And actually, we were just about to take our leave," Kano cut in. "I'll catch you around next time, okay?" And he pecked her cheek.

Ritsuka allowed himself to be whisked toward the door, his arm linked in Kano's. But before departing, he paused and looked again toward Yuiko.

"Also? Also, please tell her that I love her."

* * *

><p>It was another night on the street. Ritsuka was standing in between Youji and Kano, shivering in the March cold. The whole House had had few clients so far, and as a result, nearly all of the boys were lined up along the curb. They danced and writhed against each other with more vigor than ever. Though Ritsuka had never <em>liked<em>the displays they made, tonight it seemed particularly vulgar to him.

Youji was licking a stripe up Natsuo's neck, grinning wickedly as he did.

"Are you sure you don't want to get in on this, Ritsuka?" he asked casually, speaking into Natsuo's neck. "He tastes really good, you know."

Natsuo made an _mmph_ kind of sound.

Ritsuka muttered "no thank you" and continued staring into the street before him, wondering where Seimei was, or if he would even show up tonight. Although it had disturbed him to a point what Kano had said about Seimei coming by for someone other than Ritsuka, he had quickly shaken it off. He hadn't quite been able to shake off the feeling he got whenever he remembered the story of Soubi and Seimei, though.

He shivered now, thinking about it, and pulled his coat a little tighter around himself. It wasn't good to wear it if he wanted to get work tonight. But it was serving a double purpose because Ritsuka wanted to be sure he didn't catch anyone's eye until Seimei got there. And even though it had been several weeks, it only made Ritsuka that much more sure that he'd be showing up soon. He was way overdue.

"Hey boys," said a guy in a murky green sweater. He had come from the smoke shop a few doors down, leaving his car parked there. He was relatively young and had about two days worth of stubble, but didn't appear to be intoxicated or give off any offensive odors. His eyes were a pleasant shade of blue. "Is uh… is your friend over there working?"

Ritsuka glanced in the direction the man pointed. Kio was leaning against the rail of The House's step, bedecked in his usual everyday clothes—some tight jean shorts and a sleeveless crop top; white with runny black letters that said "Not your bitch" across the chest. He looked bored and was staring off into the middle distance like his mind was too preoccupied to even realized he was dressed like he was going to the beach while standing around in frost.

"I don't think so," said Kano. "But I'm free."

The man's eyes raked over him, like he hadn't even thought to look, then back at Kio with obvious disappointment. "How old are you kid?"

"Old enough." Kano ran a nail up the man's zip.

"I'm barely old enough, but you can't beat two for one," said Youji, pointing at himself and Natsuo. "And we'll do anything."

The man looked wistfully back at Kio.

"Move along, sweetie, no sale here," Kio called out, not even bothering to glance in their direction, but making a shooing motion with his free hand.

The man looked back at Kano, asked him to turn in a slow circle for him, and then asked him to follow him into the back alley.

"Sucker," said Natsuo.

Youji looked torn between derision and humor, and shrugged. "If I were him, I'd have taken Natsuo. I hate stupid people."

It occurred to Ritsuka that Kio didn't show any interest in entertaining clients at _all_, save for Seimei. Weirdly, Ritsuka did not feel tendrils of jealousy at this realization. Perhaps it was because Kio was so clearly in love with Soubi. And the more that Ritsuka thought about it, the more he found that it was just one more example of how charming Seimei was. He could even break Kio out of his slavish devotion to the House for a night or two.

But was Seimei's charm really such a good character trait anymore? Ritsuka trusted Kano when he said something, and his account of Seimei and Soubi made Seimei's magnetism seem...manipulative.

That didn't mean it _was_ manipulative, though, Ritsuka reminded himself. The same events could evoke wildly different interpretations from different people.

Suddenly, a small hand whose nails were glossed in black waved back and forth in front of Ritsuka's face.

"Hellllloooooo? Ritsuka? Anybody home in there?" Natsuo was sing-songing.

"I'm here." Ritsuka answered petulantly. Was it such a crime if he didn't feel like conversing this evening?

"Okay, well, we've only been trying to get your attention for the past five minutes. Kio's asking if you want any hot chocolate. He's going to get us all some because it's so damn cold out here."

Ritsuka shook his head. "I'm fine," he said, even though he wasn't. He just didn't want Seimei to pick him up and smell stale sugar on his breath.

"Okay. You can have a few sips of mine to warm up," Kio told him, and disappeared inside The House.

"I'm about ready to go press my behind against Soubi's office door and tell him to kiss it," Youji said coldly. "It's always slow after Valentine's day, but does Soubi listen? No. He's such a money-hungry bastard. I'm giving this twenty more minutes."

"You said it," Natuso said. "I'd rather be inside with my hot chocolate. You know, where it will actually stay hot long enough for me to drink it first."

He was huddled up against Youji's side, his forehead pressed to Youji's cheek. Ritsuka was getting so cold he could no longer feel his fingers or his toes, and he was half-seriously contemplating asking if he could stand between them for extra warmth when the smooth, gentle purr of a Rolls Royce stopped him short.

His heart was hammering a tattoo against his ribs when it pulled into view—but something was strange about this. It was definitely Seimei, but he had stopped on the wrong side of the street. The window slid downward, and Seimei's profile came into view. He wasn't smiling, wasn't looking at any of them.

Concerned, Ritsuka made to step off the curb to get to him, but was startled into immobility when Seimei slide two fingers into his mouth and gave two high, sharp whistles.

Inexplicably, Youji laughed.

"Sorry, Ritsuka," he said, kissing Natsuo's nose casually. "You're SOL. That's me."

There was a roaring in Ritsuka's ears that made Youji's word incomprehensible. What did he mean, Ritsuka was out of luck?

Natsuo laughed. "Well, at least you got somebody that will keep you warm tonight, babe. Tell him hi. I think I'm going to bed - Soubi can bite me."

Youji nodded. "If he starts anything, tell him I'm working for us both tonight and he can shove it. Sleep tight." Then he stepped off the curb and walked to Seimei's car.

Ritsuka's heart slammed to a stop when he saw the passenger door of the Rolls open silently from within. Youji slipped inside, and the car pulled away without a moment's hesitation. He watched it drive down the street for as long as he could. He was still staring long after the red glow of the taillights had faded into the darkness.

"Seimei," Ritsuka whispered, a lump tightening his throat. It was a dream. A _nightmare. _This wasn't happening. Seimei wouldn't just leave him. He wouldn't. Ritsuka didn't believe that, refused to believe it. He had told Kio that Ritsuka was his favorite, hadn't he? Seimei had given him milk and brought him in from the cold and laughed with him and gave him a rose.

Rising up from somewhere in the back of his mind was Kano's voice, quoting what Seimei had told Soubi once upon a disaster_: __'Loved? Don't go making ridiculous assumptions. I have never professed love of any kind to you.'_

His eyes smarted with tears, and something inside him broke. A firm but soothing hand on his forearm brought him back around, and he found himself standing in the middle of the street, half-way to where the Rolls Royce had been parked. He hadn't remembered stepping off the curb. Natsuo was beside him, his comforting touched morphing into a tight grip around his wrist.

"Come on," Natsuo was saying, "Do you want to get yourself killed? You can't just stand out here blocking traffic."

Dazed, Ritsuka allowed himself to be pulled back onto the curb, but his disbelief was quickly melting into molten anger. He tore his arm away.

"Don't touch me!"

Natuso hesitated, his arm still suspended outward, toward Ritsuka. Tears were beginning to bead softly on Ritsuka's eyelashes.

"How can you stand it? How do you just let him go off and do that?!"

Natsuo cleared his throat. "Ritsuka, come on. You know I do the same thing. It wouldn't really be fair to tell Youji he can't do something I do myself. Can we please get out of the street now?"

Ritsuka stalked back to the sidewalk, pointedly refusing to walk beside Natsuo. He didn't bother to see if Natsuo was following him or not when he said, "Fair! There's a new concept. If you would just keep your _dog_ on a _leash_, none of this would have happened!"

When he reached the curb, he saw that Natsuo _had_ followed him, and was now standing to his left. Natsuo's eyes were narrowed, the first sign of anger he'd yet shown. "Youji is the love of my life, and I don't appreciate you talking that way about him, Ritsuka."

Ritsuka just shook his head in disbelieving horror. "How can you let him go off with other people? _Why_ do you let him go off with other people?"

Natsuo blinked. "Umm...because he has to eat?"

"And you can't think of any other way to accomplish that besides letting the 'love of your life' go off to have sex with someone else's—"

"What, Ristuka? Someone else's what? Go on and say it if you honestly believe something so pathetically untrue."

Ritsuka closed his mouth. He was so mad his hands were shaking, and there were spots dancing before his eyes.

"You need to get your facts straight, little boy, because Seimei Aoyagi has no serious attachments to anyone or anything and he never has. Get it through your unbelievable stupid head already."

"You're wrong! You're wrong and everyone else is wrong!" Great tears began pouring down Ritsuka's face, and he was shouting so loudly his throat was already raw . "You don't know him!"

"We all know him. We all even know what size his dick is and what he sounds like when he comes." Natsuo still was not shouting, but his voice had risen significantly, and there was no kindness there.

Suddenly, the door of the House swung open and Kio walked through. There was a tray of hot chocolates in his hands - tiny curls of steam were unfurling above them. They smelled rich and sweet.

They didn't change the fact that right now, Ritsuka wanted to vomit.

"What's going on out here?" Kio asked sharply, walking amongst the other boys and distributing hot chocolates but clearly speaking to Natsuo and Ritsuka. "I can hear you two arguing all the way in the kitchen."

Natsuo snorted. "RITSUKA is having a meltdown because Seimei Aoyagi, Mr. Rent Boy Rolodex himself, took Youji tonight instead of him. Even though we've ALL tried to tell him that it would happen."

Ritsuka's voice reached glass-breaking pitches when he shouted, "None of you know what you're talking about! None of you! You don't know what he's like with me! Not that I'd expect Natsuo to know what true love looks like!"

There was a sudden crash, and the sound of ceramic breaking. Somehow, though, Kio's soft voice pierced through all the noise. "True love? Have you lost your _mind_, Ritsuka?"

"I know what I'm talking about! I'm not crazy! He wants me, not Youji and not anybody else!"

"Come inside," Kio said. He started toward Ritsuka, stepping over the broken tray and shards of teacups.

Ritsuka bolted for the street, his chest heaving with emotion. But Kio was faster and managed to catch him around the waist from behind. Ritsuka tried madly to pry away the restraining arms.

"Let me go! Let me go!"

"Ritsuka, calm the hell down!" Kio said, yelling this into his ear.

Ritsuka squeezed his eyes closed, still struggling. He threw out his arms, like he were reaching for someone or something in the distance. "Seimei! _Seimei_!" The name trailed off into long, heart-wrenching sobs.

"Soubi!" yelled Kio, craning his head over his shoulder and yelling in the direction of the House. "_Soubi_!"

"I don't need him! I don't need anybody but Seimei! Seimei!" Ritsuka sobbed, throwing himself to and fro ferociously. Kio could barely keep a hold on his flailing limbs. But he did, and suddenly the fight drained out of Ritsuka completely. He sagged in Kio's arms and went limp. In the end, it was only Kio's strength keeping him afloat.

It was no more than ten seconds later when Soubi burst through the door of the House, looking about wildly and seeming to be as frantic as Ritsuka had ever seen him. "Kio?" he called, and then he got sight of him, Ritsuka still dead weight in his arms.

Soubi strode quickly to them, eyes intent on Kio's. "What happened?"

With great effort, Kio hefted Ritsuka higher in his arms. Ritsuka experienced everything as if it were happening to someone else. He wasn't Ritsuka right now. He was lost.

"Ritsuka's having an...emotional catastrophe." Kio muttered. "We need to get him inside. This isn't good publicity."

Soubi's clever violet eyes swept the street. The remaining boys had all been staring, and even Kano and the man in the green sweater had emerged from the alley to see what all the commotion was about. Now they all pulled away their eyes and began softly murmuring to each other—except for Natsuo, who was still glaring daggers at Ritsuka, and Kano, who looked like he wanted to cry himself.

"Give him to me," Soubi said.

Kio relinquished Ritsuka, and Soubi hoisted him up over his shoulder. He anchored his arms around the backs of Ritsuka's thighs and started back for the house. Ritsuka let his top half hang down Soubi's back, limp as a ragdoll. He was still crying, still saying Seimei's name over and over like a plea. Like an apology. And he didn't care what Soubi thought, and he didn't care what was going to happen. Because everything mattered, and now nothing did.

* * *

><p><strong>TO BE CONTINUED!<strong>

**-BC3 & MM**


	17. Chapter 14

**Author's Notes: **Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays! No matter which holiday you celebrate, here's to you! Cheers!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 14<strong>

* * *

><p>Soubi's office had been redecorated since the last time Ritsuka had visited it. Where before it had been drab and dated, everything now looked sophisticated and modern, and almost exactly like Seimei's apartment. One part creepy and three parts upsetting, Ritsuka had decided immediately. He considered whether Soubi had matched it on purpose, but then realized Kio wouldn't have let that jet fly with a smile on his face, and he had largely been the one in charge of the decor.<p>

Ritsuka's swollen, watering eyes stared into the teacup that had been placed in front of him on the glossed desk, not actually seeing the cooling chocolate swirled with melting marshmallows inside. Soubi's mug had been filled with a strong vanilla bean coffee Ritsuka could smell in discreet puffs every time the curling steam moved in his direction. Soubi sipped delicately at it from his place across the desk from Ritsuka. Neither of them had spoken. A swirl-patterned chrome clock ticked away the minutes in its glass dome on the shelf to Ritsuka's right, its steady ticking oddly pacifying.

It was almost hypnotic, really, and Ritsuka had lapsed into a meditative state when Soubi reached across the desk and nudged up Ritsuka's chin with his pale, artistic fingers. He waited until Ritsuka met his gaze, hesitant and ashamed.

"This is not your fault." The words had been spoken sincerely, and so softly that Ritsuka paused to take in the meaning and be sure Soubi had truly spoken at all.

A stray tear slid down Ritsuka's cheek. Soubi wiped it away and pulled back.

"Of course, I had hoped you would heed my warning, and if not mine, then that of your friends. But I know, maybe better than anyone here, that you can't tell a heart to feel differently. That comes with practice."

Ritsuka didn't think any amount of practice could arm anyone with the weapon of a switch on their feelings, which could be shut off at will. Right now, though, it sounded nice.

"That man is a menace. Most reliable client, but that's beside the point. I hope now you can see Kio and I have been guiding you with the best intentions. I wish you could have been spared this little-" He frowned, consulting his teacup. "Disappointment. As it is, it's only uphill from here. That I can promise you. Take comfort in the knowledge that you now have the experience to harden yourself against the charms of predators like that."

In Ritsuka's opinion, Soubi was a sort of predator himself, and Ritsuka had fallen for his charms before. That's the whole reason was even sitting in this office in the first place; otherwise, he never would be feeling this right now. He never would have known Seimei at all.

The concept was surprisingly easy to swallow, and Ritsuka realized that even in the far reaching places inside himself, in the dark empty corners of his mind, there wasn't even a cobweb of a wish that he'd chosen differently. He was glad for all of it. For the roof over his head, for the money curled thick as a python in a sock inside his pillowcase, for Kio fussing around him like a mother hen, for his new friendship with Kano (and maybe those other two; he was still far too angry to be sure), and even for every precious moment spent with Seimei. He wouldn't take it back, wouldn't trade it, and wouldn't be sorry for it. No matter how badly it hurt right now.

He looked up at Soubi. He had taken hold of his mug, which looked small in his hand, and was swirling the contents with the tip of his index finger.

"He's a predator," Ritsuka said, softly. "And you can turn off your feelings, but you love him. You still love him."

Soubi put his fingertip into his mouth, sucked off the coffee, and then set the cup back down. He stood and crossed the room, pausing at bookcase. He pulled from it a handsome leather-bound album, which had been stuffed in the center with a few full envelopes. He selected one of the smaller ones and handed it to Ritsuka, then went back to the shelf. He waited there silently, the album lying open and face up.

Ritsuka opened up the envelope, cream-colored with blue trim, and read the short note:

_Soubi—_

_Meet me outside. I'm waiting._

It was so simple and yet so powerful. Maybe it was the dark, careful writing. Maybe the briefness of the message helped it pack a more powerful punch, but it felt rich with dark intentions.

"I have an obsession." Soubi's tone was flooded with resignation. "As to your assertion, I can't give you an answer. Can you love someone you never truly knew? That is, if you were in love with someone wearing a mask, but you did not know it was a mask, were you ever in love at all? If so, were you ever really in love with the person, or with the mask? Is it possible to love a mask?"

Ritsuka didn't know. He couldn't give a firm answer to any of those questions. A small, fierce part of himself said it didn't matter. Soubi may have only known a mask when he was with Seimei, but Seimei showed Ritsuka the truth during their times together. How could such kindness be false? How could the concern, the warmth, be faked? There was something in Seimei's eyes that shone with sincerity – it poured out his benevolence like rainwater. It flared with a bright passion during their nights together, and even if money did change hands afterwards, it didn't put out that fire.

"Ritsuka," Soubi sighed, sitting himself once again at his desk chair. "I don't tell you all of this to make you hurt more, and I don't tell it to you lightly. Not many people in this house know the full extent of what I went through, what you are going through now. Not many people know the evil Seimei Aoyagi is capable of. Now you are one of those few. Let your heart hurt, let it break, then put it away. Don't waste one more second of time on a man who won't give that time to you."

Then Ritsuka found his voice.

"No." He raised his eyes to meet Soubi's gaze. "You can turn off your feelings all you want – you can smother them or throw them away or burn them – but I won't. You can't convince me that Seimei is evil. _Seimei _will convince me, if that's what he really is. But even more than that, you can't convince me to not feel this, Soubi. I _want_ to feel this. So what if it hurts? So what if my heart is breaking? Can't you see how precious that is? How many people really have the power to break your heart?"

Ritsuka's words grew softer as he spoke. He placed his mug of hot chocolate firmly on the desk, almost managing to splash it all over Soubi's business records. He stood up, filled with the courage of his conviction.

"And in case you don't know how precious it is, go ask Kio. Go ask_ him_ if it's worth it: pining after you day after day, watching you sleep with any halfway decent boy in sight, taking whatever little bits of you you'll deign to give him. Do you think he takes the easy way out? Do you think he shuts off his feelings? No. He doesn't. He thinks you're worth the pain, and he feels it every day, and you don't even know, do you? You have no idea."

Ritsuka realized he might be saying things that weren't his to say, but the words had just jumped out, and there was no taking them back now. Soubi was looking at everything in the room but Ritsuka, eyes darting back and forth across his desk, eyebrows drawn together ever so slightly.

"You think you know everything, Soubi. But you're as ignorant as the rest of us, and as vulnerable. You know _nothing_."

With that, he left Soubi's office, shutting the door with a soft click on his way out.

* * *

><p>Soubi hadn't told Ritsuka he could take off the rest of the night, but neither had he told him that he couldn't. Factoring in how unstable he felt in addition to the biting weather, he took a sharp right and followed the smell of hot pastries to the kitchen. Save for Kio, it was empty. Ritsuka paused in the mouth of the entryway that separated the dining room from the kitchen. A large box of pop tarts was sitting on the counter next to one of the silver toasters. Kio had a knife laid across the top of a butter container. He was wiping crumbs from his lips. Ritsuka didn't think he'd seen Kio eat a single carb since he'd lived there and was understandably suspicious. Maybe this was how he coped with stress. Then again, the way Kio's life went, he wouldn't have such a handle on his eating habits nearly one hundred percent of the time.<p>

"Would you like some pop tarts?" He asked when he spotted Ritsuka lurking. They were chocolate, Ritsuka's favorite besides strawberry. He nodded. "And some medicine to clear up your stuffy sinuses? God knows I always need them after a hard cry."

Ritsuka nodded again.

Kio busied himself with a beige bag residing on the countertop (something Youji had always referred to as "Kio's man purse") and pulled out two tablets of a red decongestant. He slid them over to Ritsuka, along with a chocolate pop tart and a glass of water.

Ritsuka took a seat across from him at the kitchen island and took the pills. He started in on the pop tart, liking the taste but having to force himself to chew. Food didn't taste as good as it did pre-Seimei loss.

Not 'loss', Ritsuka reminded himself sternly. Setback. Temporary setback.

"So," Kio said gently. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"What's to talk about?"

Kio raised a perfectly waxed eyebrow. "You were just having one of the biggest diva moments I've ever seen in my life, and you ask what there is to talk about?"

Ritsuka drank deeply from his cup before answering. "I'm not a diva."

Sighing, Kio stood up. "Alright. I just hope you can put all this behind you now and move on to greener pastures."

"I'm not a cow either."

"Oh, aren't you hilarious."

"Sometimes," said Ritsuka. "things feel so horrible all you can do is be humorous. Because what else can you do?" he looked up. "You know what I mean. Kio."

The last part came out delicately, and Kio's eyes softened. He didn't need to say that he understood. Ritsuka could read it there.

"I'm going back out to the street to do a patrol." Kio nodded toward the pop tarts. "Help yourself if you want more."

Ritsuka watched Kio get up and leave, then he finished his pop tart. By the last bite, simply swallowing it was a battle. Out of nowhere, flashes of what Seimei and Youji must be doing together would burst into his mind. The pictures made Ritsuka feel as though the pop tart would work its way back up.

He cleared away both their plates and washed them in a nearby sink. It was a shared chore among the House: everyone (with the exception of Soubi) took turns doing dishes in the evening, based on whose day off it was. It wasn't Ritsuka's turn this evening, but he felt that he owed the favor to Kio. Especially when he was reminded of the things he told Soubi earlier: things he was sure Kio wouldn't thank him for sharing.

With the dishes clean and dry, Ritsuka turned around to find Kano in the doorway. He was wearing a sad smile and his arms were opened wide.

Ritsuka walked into them immediately, and Kano held him in a warm embrace. Ritsuka felt he could trust Kano, and that trust led him to cry all over again. Not angry sobs or hysterical moaning cries, just tears. Kano let them fall. He didn't try to talk Ritsuka out of his feelings, or tell him platitudes, or even say anything at all. He was just there, as a friend should be.

Ritsuka cried a bit harder when he realized how easy and convenient it would be to have feelings for Kano. Kano was there for him, honest, genuine in his concern, in close proximity, he understood the sort of work Ritsuka did. He was even handsome, Ritsuka could see that. But Ritsuka felt nothing for him. Nothing you could build a relationship out of, anyway. Kano was his friend, and nothing more. And in that moment, he hated that it wasn't, longed for his feelings to redirect themselves to this person who was so kind and giving and available. He felt guilty for fueling Kano's feelings for him with their friendship, but he couldn't bring himself to let it die. Kano felt like his only friend sometimes.

"I'm sorry," Ritsuka murmured through his tears, which were building and building.

"Sorry for what, Ritsuka?" Kano asked, patting his back.

But Ritsuka couldn't answer. What was he supposed to say? I'm sorry I can't love you? Kano was probably perfect for him in some bizarre world where Seimei didn't exist. But he did exist, and even if they had never met but he still existed, Ritsuka would feel him and know that a part of himself was incomplete, and he still could not love Kano. Not ever in a way that would be enough. But it would be so easy, and Ritsuka couldn't help but feel bad for himself, because Seimei was off with Youji and not him. _Not him_.

And now the tears were falling so quickly there wasn't any way to tell where one started and the other began; it was just a wet, snotty stream of misery that felt like it would never end.

When the hysterics had subsided into faint hiccups, someone behind Kano cleared his throat. Ritsuka lifted his face from the junction between Kano's throat and shoulder, and through a mess of overgrown bangs and too many tears saw Kio.

Ritsuka pulled away first, and Kano glanced back at Kio, looking slightly annoyed at the intrusion.

"Mr. Tamagoiji is out front, and he's requesting you, Kano."

Kano sighed. "Mr. Tamagoiji has more porn than he knows what to do with, and insists on re-enacting each one, scene by scene. I'm going to need that anti-chafing balm when I get back, Kio. Heads up."

Kio laughed, and Ritsuka—despite fresh tears continuing to bead along his eyelashes— almost smiled.

* * *

><p>It was well past two o'clock in the morning when Ritsuka finally made his way up to his bedroom. He hadn't felt very sleepy until then, and he had been too restless and unsettled to try to sleep. With everyone he had gotten close to in The House working that night, he had considered downing some NyQuil, having a hot bath and settling in for an early night's sleep. But on his way past the dining hall, he'd heard a few of the boys he didn't know very well making plans for a stay-in movie night. Ritsuka, very much wanting a distraction, asked if he could join them.<p>

"Sure," said one, with a brazen smile. He looked to be about twenty-one or so, and his hair was kool-aid blue. "You're Kano's boy."

Ritsuka told them that he and Kano were just friends, but they didn't look like they believed him. It turned out two of them (including blue-hair) were Kano's roommates, and they'd heard more than their fair share about Ritsuka from him. Ritsuka was glad to know they were so easy-going, and gladder still that they obviously hadn't yet heard about his meltdown earlier or simply didn't care.

He had helped them prepare snacks, mixing Jack Daniels and Coca-Cola into a large jug and pouring a thermos of non-alcoholic hot chocolate for himself. The snacks were a variety of chips, leftover takeout pizza, popcorn, and peanut butter M&Ms. Ritsuka gorged until he was fit to burst, numbing himself on preservatives and the explosive sounds of bad action movies.

The other boys had put in their third movie when Ritsuka decided he'd had enough. Nothing sounded better than slipping into bed and remaining unconscious clear into the next afternoon.

When he pardoned himself for bed, he received a lot of jibes that Kano probably wasn't even home yet and questions about who he was cheating with. Ritsuka had liked them all okay up until that point, then he could see why Kano didn't make it a habit to spend time with any of them. It was pretty annoying even if it was supposed to be all in good fun. Ritsuka didn't see anything funny about cheating, and he didn't want to laugh back and give anyone the impression that he and Kano actually were a thing.

Least of all Kano, Ritsuka thought as he trudged up the stairs. He was beginning to wonder if he was leading Kano on, unwittingly. Hopefully he had been clear enough in his refusal of Kano's advances.

Ritsuka's thoughts continued in this vein, worriedly, until he heard familiar voices issuing from his shared bedroom. One he clearly recognized as Kio. The other, Youji.

"He did _what_?"

A sigh. "You heard me. It was _weird_. So fucking weird. And a total bore."

"You realize _no one_ can tell Ritsuka about this, right? Not a _word_."

"Yeah, yeah, I get it. Gotta shut down his little crush, blah blah blah. Seriously, that kid is more stubborn than a mule. I really don't see how withholding this is even going to help at this point."

Kio's tone became remarkably sharper. "Just because you can't douse the fire doesn't mean you should fan the flames. Youji, I'm pretty certain you haven't obeyed a word anyone has said from the moment you were born, so I'm not even going to ask you. I am straight up begging you. If you care for Ritsuka at all, you won't breathe a word of this to him. Not one hint of a hint of a word."

Without any forethought, Ritsuka burst into the room. "A word about what?"

His gaze sought and found Youji. He was standing by the window with his arms crossed, wearing nothing but a pair of black micro shorts, steel studs lining the hems. He looked thoroughly unsurprised by Ritsuka's sudden appearance, and deeply annoyed with the conversation at hand. Kio had a towel around his head, turbine-like, and a terrycloth robe open over pinstriped pajamas. He seemed to have paused in the middle of shining his nails with a nail buff. Natsuo was in bed, facing the wall.

"A word about what?" Ritsuka said again, when no answer came.

Youji's eyes cut accusingly to Kio's. "Well? Since I can't tell him the _truth_, what can I tell him?"

Kio huffed angrily. "Ritsuka, hasn't anyone ever told you it's rude to eavesdrop?"

"Hasn't anyone ever told you it's rude to gossip about people behind their backs?" Ritsuka shot back. "Hasn't anyone ever told you not to keep secrets from your supposed _friends_?"

"Friends keep each other safe! They protect each other!" Kio said, forcefully. "Even if that means keeping certain things from them sometimes."

"Well, don't I just have the _best_ friends in the whole world?" said Ritsuka, positively spitting fire at this point.

"Kio does just have your best interests at heart," Youji interjected, sounding uncharacteristically mild. "We all do."

A tower of shock was quickly knocked down by an unnatural wave of renewed vehemence. Youji was actually going to hold his tongue on behalf of Kio?

""Fine!" Ritsuka spat, positively trembling with anger. "Fine!"

He tore one of his pillows and a blanket off his bed and began marching back to the door. "I can't stand to be near any of you right now!"

Kio scrambled to his feet, looking alarmed. "Where are you going?"

"Does it matter?" Came Natsuo's unexpected voice. He didn't turn to face any of them, but that didn't matter. The poison was still dripping from every word. "Since Seimei is satiated for the evening, we know it won't be there."

Ritsuka wasn't sure if the tears smarted his eyes before or after he slammed the door so hard he heard a few fancy toiletry bottles from Kio's side table crash to the floor.

He just couldn't believe they were keeping something from him. It was the same thing as a lie. Withholding information was as good as a lie, and Ritsuka didn't believe in it. It wasn't up to any of them to decide what he could handle and what he couldn't. None of them were his parents, who didn't have any kind of legal hold over him anymore anyway. It was an outrage.

Ritsuka shoved open the door he had stalked to without bothering to knock. The blue kool-aid haired boy was wrong; Kano _was_ home. He was already in bed too, but he seemed as alert as he ever had. He was sitting in his bed in his nightshirt and plaid cotton pants, surprise marring his face.

"Ritsuka?"

"Something happened tonight," Ritsuka said, and slammed the door closed.

Kano put aside the magazine he had been leafing through and caught the pillow that Ritsuka threw up to him. "And I need you to find out what."

Arranging the pillow next to his side, Kano shrugged. "I can do that. What am I investigating?"

"A moral outrage," said Ritsuka bitterly. He threw himself against the space that Kano had made for him.

"That sounds pretty intense," Kano said.

"It is. Kio and Youji and Natsuo — those bastards who call themselves my friends — are keeping something from me. And I think it's something about Seimei!"

"Hmmm…." Kano studied Ritsuka's face with an uncomfortable level of thoughtfulness. "Seimei took Youji tonight, right?"

Ritsuka muttered to himself before answering with a curt and cutting, "yes."

"So you're thinking something happened while he was with him and that's the something that they don't want you to know about?"

"Yes, those….those…." Ritsuka cut himself off and made a noise of clear frustration. "Those bastards are keeping stuff from me. Stuff they KNOW is relevant to me!"

Kano ignored Ritsuka's obvious emotionalism. "So, we can safely assume that all three of them know whatever this is? Or just Youji, since he's the one Seimei took tonight?"

Ritsuka rehashed the fragment of conversation he'd overheard between the three slimy traitors all the way up to Natsuo's cutting remark. Kano was quiet when he'd finished, clearly analyzing.

"That's... okay, I'm not really sure what happened, but you're right that something definitely did. Give me three days. I'll have information by Tuesday morning."

Satiated by this, Ritsuka relaxed against his pillow and breathed a sigh of thanks.

"So I take it you're crashing here tonight?"

"Is that okay?" Ritsuka mentally berated himself. He had just been worrying about whether he had been clear enough that he didn't feel romantically attracted to Kano, and now here he was, sprawled out in his bed like the common hooker he was. He had to fight to keep the blush from seeping up into his face from his neck. "I can sleep on the floor if you'd like. I just don't want to be in that room with them."

"Don't be ridiculous," said Kano. "Of course it's okay, and you don't have to sleep on the floor. But let me get you one of my shirts to sleep in."

Sleeping in Kano's clothes didn't sound like something a typical friend would do. Admittedly, Ritsuka was pretty behind on what constituted normal friendship behavior, but this seemed a little too intimate to him. "You really don't have to do that."

Kano paused. He had turned onto his hands and knees and had swung one leg over Ritsuka's hips, in the process of overstepping him to get to the bunk's ladder. One of his hands was on the bed next to the pillow, supporting his weight above Ritsuka like a bridge.

"Ritsuka," he said, as serious as Ritsuka had ever heard him. "You in my bed is something I can handle. You in my bed wearing _that_ is something I cannot."

Now the blush that he had been so forcibly holding back exploded across his face like someone had stomped on a ketchup packet. "I—" was all he managed at first. "It's just an outfit."

Kano's eyes swept slowly over him, starting from his thigh-high socks and lingering briefly on the naked strip of skin showing between the hem of those and the bottom of his booty shorts. When his gaze met Ritsuka's again, the brownish-amber color looked darker. "If you want me to take advantage of you, then by all means please don't bother changing. I won't complain."

Ritsuka pushed Kano away, sitting up and pulling the nearest blanket up and over himself. "Kano…" he began. He didn't know what else he was going to say, and his tone was a warning mixed with resolution.

"I know, I know," Kano said casually, when Ritsuka didn't answer. "Hands off, you're not interested in me like that, yada yada yada."

He rolled off the bed and went to the bathroom. Looking at Ritsuka over his shoulder, Kano flashed him a smile. "Could just be a matter of time, though." Then he slipped inside, and the door shut behind him.

Privately, Ritsuka knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that it wasn't just a matter of time, and never would be. It was a matter of Seimei.

Slightly annoyed with himself, Ritsuka turned down the blanket and pulled off his socks. He hoped Kano had the foresight—and the decency—to bring a pair of sleeping pants in too. He had a feeling Kano's shirt wouldn't be long enough to cover much of his legs even if it would cover most of his thighs.

He sat up and draped the blanket around his lap. The magazine Kano had been looking through caught his attention. Mostly because Kano was on the front cover with two other boys. He didn't look all that younger in this picture, but there was definitely more of a softness in his cheeks back then. Ritsuka picked it up and began leafing through the pages. It was some kind of high-end fashion edition, and the strange thing was that Ritsuka could remember browsing a copy on the subway train a couple years ago. If he could go back and tell himself what he'd be up to in a few years with this kid, he'd have been terrified. As it was, things actually weren't all that horrible. They could definitely be worse.

But that made him wonder about Kano. Obviously he still had some hang ups about his past and probably about his future. Otherwise, why would he feel the need to reminisce over something like this? These weren't the typical memorable snapshots that Ritsuka himself valued. They were just pictures in a studio taken with a few other boys he probably didn't know all that well. Maybe. He had to admit that he and Kano didn't know much about each other's lives before the whole Soubi employment situation brought them under the same roof.

If Kano was feeling comfortable about it, maybe he would tell Ritsuka about the magazine when he came back. God knew he could do with something to take his mind of Seimei and that malicious spider, Youji.

He set the magazine aside and looked around the bed curiously. There were two thin shelves mounted on the wall a few inches above the mattress, which looked to serve better as a small table than an actual shelf. Kano had a small cup of water, a bottle of advil and a sleeping mask on the top shelf. On the bottom shelf was a deck of cards, a tube of lotion, a silver bracelet, and the lacquered box Ritsuka had bought him.

Ritsuka smiled, pleased that Kano had liked it and curious if he had found a use for it besides ornamental purposes. He picked up the box and undid the sturdy latch, not expecting him to actually have filled it yet.

He was wrong. What looked like a substance similar to dried oregano filled the box to the brim. The smell was robust, but Ritsuka couldn't place it, and it didn't smell like any kind of herb he'd encountered before. Like a serpent moving in for the kill, Ritsuka felt dread and suspicion slither through his stomach.

Kano returned from the bathroom at that moment. He was holding a plaid, flannel nightshirt and matching bottoms. "Ritsuka, this will probably be too big for you, but pajamas should be a little baggy, right?"

If Kano took any notice of Ritsuka staring open-mouthed at the box, he didn't give any indication of it. He held out the shirt and pants politely.

"Kano, what is this?" demanded Ritsuka, ignoring the pajamas entirely.

"Marijauna. Also known as pot. What does it look like?" Kano asked. The pajamas in his grasp fell to his side limply.

"You're doing _drugs_?"

"It's marijuana, not heroin. It's not going to kill me. It's not even addictive."

Ritsuka couldn't believe what he was hearing. He didn't know what kind of reaction he had been expecting from Kano, but it certainly wasn't this blasé, devil-may-care attitude.

"Is that some kind of excuse? Murder isn't addictive either; that doesn't mean you should do it!"

Kano sighed. "You're freaking out. I get it. Just take a few cleansing breaths and listen to me. Yeah, I do pot sometimes. I'm being honest about it and now you know. It's not controlling my life, nobody else knows but you and my dealer, and I get through my life with a little less shittiness. That's all it is."

"I can't believe what I'm hearing." Ritsuka threw himself out of bed and snapped the box shut, brandishing it at Kano fiercely. "This shit? Shit like this will kill you, Kano."

"Kill me?" scoffed Kano. "It's _pot_, Ritsuka."

"It's stopping you from dealing with what's really the matter in your life. It's pouring some stupid high over your brain. The only reason you'd want that is if something is seriously messed up with you. I knew you didn't handle all of this so smoothly. I knew it. And I'm getting rid of the illegal Band-Aid you're putting on the problem."

With that, Ritsuka marched into the bathroom, fully prepared to dump the entire contents of the box down the toilet and flush them all away.

Kano scrambled after him, taking hold of Ritsuka's wrist. "Wait!" he shouted.

Ritsuka didn't answer beyond shooting him an exasperated, demanding stare.

Not one to miss opportunities, Kano spoke rapidly. "It's plain that you're upset by this. I'm taking that seriously. No, really, I am," he said at Ritsuka's eye roll. "But you can't just flush all of that. It cost a lot of money."

Ritsuka's eyes became even narrower. "You should have thought about that before you dished it out. Either way, you blew that money and now you have to deal with your stupid mistake." He wrenched his arm from Kano's grip and opened the toilet lid.

Kano caught him from behind, crossing his arms across Ritsuka's chest to restrain him like a living straight jacket.

Ritsuka's voice became even more outraged. "Let go of me!"

"Ritsuka, you have to calm down. If you do that, it will hurt me, do you see what I'm saying?"

Ritsuka paused. He stopped squirming in Kano's hold but he did not set down the box either.

Kano sighed. "Ritsuka, I spent a lot of money on that weed. I know you don't like that, but it's a fact. I can either sell it and get part of the money back, or I can dump it all now and be out of... well, let's just say, a lot of cash."

Ritsuka shook his head and almost sneered. "You want to become a drug dealer now too?"

"That's not it," Kano said, with maddening calm. Ritsuka wondered darkly if he was stoned that very moment. "It's just that I work hard for the money that I earn, and the larger savings I can acquire, the sooner I can make a career change. Considering my current living circumstances, it would be foolish to trash something I can easily get refunded. Now, if I promise that I'll get rid of all of it within a week, will you promise not to dispose of it?"

Reluctantly, the story of how Kano had given all his savings to another boy in order to spare him this unseemly life surfaced in Ritsuka's mind. With a sharp swear, Ritsuka nodded, and Kano released him.

"One week." Ritsuka shoved the box back at Kano unceremoniously. "And not a day over that, or there's going to be some pretty high fish in the ocean."

In response, Kano swore beneath his breath, but he was smiling.

"What?" Ritsuka demanded, still fired-up.

"It's just that..." Kano shook his head. "My God, everything about you makes me want you."

"Stop saying things like that!"

"No." He was still smiling. "No, I'm sorry, I can't."

"You make me feel like such an evil person." Ritsuka said morosely.

Kano blinked. "Why would you say a thing like that?"

"Because," replied Ritsuka, in a tone that meant he didn't want to clarify.

"Because why?"

"Because!" exploded Ritsuka, back to frustrated fury all over again. "Because you like me in a way that I don't like you, and I keep hanging around you, making things worse for you, with no intention or hope or chance of ever feeling that way back. How is that not a horrible thing to do to someone?"

"Ritsuka…" Kano said patiently. "You can't help how you feel for someone. Or how you don't feel for them."

Ritsuka scoffed, looking at the ground. He knew what Kano was talking about and he wished it weren't true. Earlier, when another bout of dejection shot through him at the thought of Youji and Seimei together while he sat pathetically on an armchair watching stupid movies, he had wished savagely that he DID have feelings for Kano. How much easier it would be. Right now he could be curled up in warm arms, dozing contentedly. Instead he wanted to scream at everyone because everything felt so horribly wrong.

"Don't feel guilty," Kano told him. "You've been perfectly clear how you feel, and I don't hold any delusions about it. But I _like_ feeling this way. I like liking you. And I have hope that one day-"

"There's no hope," Ritsuka muttered.

Kano stared at him, then placed a hand on his shoulder. "You have hope that one day Seimei Aoyagi will have feelings for you. So you'll understand that I have hope that one day you'll have them for me. If I'm wrong, then I am, but don't think you'd be doing me any favors staying away from me."

Ritsuka sighed. Then he smiled wryly. "Well, you're good at taking the guilt at least a little bit away. Thanks."

Kano beamed. "Don't mention it. Now, it's pretty late. I'm thinking we both need some sleep."

Ritsuka looked dubiously out the bathroom doorway, at the single bed they would be sharing.

"_Sleep_, Ritsuka. Nothing more."

Ritsuka nodded. It wasn't that he didn't trust Kano to keep to his word, or that he didn't believe in Kano's reassurances. It was the thought of Seimei, who was likely sleeping in his own bed right now, exhausted from his night with Youji. Would Seimei be so worn out by Youji's energy and enthusiasm for it that he'd be too exhausted to do anything else? Would Seimei dream of Youji? Did Seimei ever dream of anyone else? All of these thoughts swirled in Ritsuka's brain into they made a disgusting, lumpy bowl of jealousy and sadness.

"C'mon, then," Kano said, and together they returned to the room, box in Kano's hands and the borrowed cover-up shirt in Ritsuka's.

* * *

><p>There wasn't any improvement in Ritsuka's mood over the next few days. Seimei hadn't shown up since, and Kio and the traitors still wouldn't tell Ritsuka anything. He was so infuriated with them that he refused to stay in a room if any one of them wandered in, and come Thursday night, when Ritsuka was due for another of Kio's manipedi miracles, he refused point blank to cooperate.

"Really, Ritsuka, you're acting like a child," Kio snapped at him. He had cornered Ritsuka near the spa bathroom, terrycloth robe in hand. "Put this on this instant!"

"No. I won't," Ritsuka shot back. He stood ridged and defensive against the wall, bristled like an angry cat. "Why shouldn't I act like a child? You treat me like one!"

Kio sighed angrily. "I treat you like a friend, you…" he cut himself off, seemingly too infuriated to speak further and rubbed at his sinuses.

"Friends don't keep secrets!"

"They do when it means protecting each other!" Kio's voice was raised to the loudest Ritsuka had ever heard it. Then, it abruptly quieted. "Forget it. You don't want me to do your nails, fine. But part of your employment here includes good grooming, so you're going to have to get them done by someone. Kano can do it. He's not as good as me, of course, but…"

Ritsuka nodded without saying a word.

Kio dropped the robe on the floor at Ritsuka's feet. "Be angry with me if you want to, but it won't change my mind. Nothing will. I'm doing this for your own good and I will never apologize for that."

He turned around and left.

Fuming, Ritsuka snatched the robe off the carpet and snapped it hard against the adjacent wall. He didn't understand what could have possibly gone on between Youji and Seimei that was such a huge secret, and some inner terror was beginning to rise up inside of him that what if something had happened to Seimei? What if he had been hurt or even killed? The thought petrified him.

Sensing that Kio was probably going to send Kano straight up here to deal with him, he set off into the spa bathroom and took up in one of the showers, using the fruity smelling scrubs, soaps, and shampoos he was becoming accustomed to. He even poured a dollop of the translucent pink gel lotion onto his towel, exactly how Kio always prepared it for him. The stuff truly was amazing, like magic almost, and he wasn't about to give it up on the off chance that maybe Seimei was okay and maybe he would want Ritsuka again.

By the time he slipped into the robe and returned to the common area of the bathroom, Kano was seated at one of the nail tables, texting on his cell phone. He looked up and didn't even attempt to cover the appreciative once-over he gave Ritsuka.

"Um, Kio's appointed me your salon girl until further notice," he said, sounding a little confused. "Actually, he said until such time that you remember you're neither thirteen nor a girl and begin acting acceptable to society. He was pretty huffy, even by Kio standards."

"Yeah, well…" Ritsuka sat in the chair opposite of Kano and put his feet up on the rest pad. "So did you find out anything?"

Kano set his phone aside, reached for a nail file and set to work. "Actually, I did. I found out what is supposedly the entire story."

Ritsuka sat up very straight, but Kano grabbed up his foot, knocking him against the backrest again.

"And?" he asked. "Kano, tell me!"

Kano was very focused on Ritsuka's nails, his mouth a thin line. "I don't know. I heard the story but i don't know that I believe it."

"Why not?"

Another long pause, and Ritsuka found himself growing steadily more impatient.

"Just give me a little longer, okay?" Kano finally said. "I don't want to tell you anything prematurely."

Ritsuka narrowed his eyes. Something in Kano's tone made him even more suspicious and nervous about the outcome of his investigation. Ritsuka had been staying in Kano's room for the past two nights, but this was his first opportunity to really talk to him. Kano had been working until the wee hours of the morning every night. When he came back to the House, he simply collapsed into bed and was asleep within seconds.

Kano caught sight of his expression. "Don't look at me like that. I'm telling you the truth. I'd rather withhold information until I can be sure of its truthfulness, then give you false impressions."

Kano had been a good friend to him (his only friend at this point, really), Ritsuka reflected. He hadn't given him any reason not to trust him yet. So perhaps Ritsuka should give him the benefit of the doubt in this instance.

"Fine." Ritsuka relented. "Just as long as you DO tell me when you've found out."

Kano nodded, carefully shaping Ritsuka's nails into squares with rounded corners. "I told you I would, didn't I?"

A little taken aback by Kano's tone, Ritsuka said nothing. It wasn't that Kano had spoken sharply, but there had been an undertone of something final in the words that undermined his usual warm demeanor. Possibly he was a bit stung by Ritsuka's need for assurance when he had more than proven his trustworthiness. The lacquered box was still full of marijuana, but none of it had disappeared since Kano had promised to discard it, which meant he hadn't used any. If he had kept a promise about something like that, surely there was no need to question him.

As the sun began to fade behind the high, half moon-shaped windows of the bathroom salon and the glare of surrounding neon lights reflected hot pinks, acid greens, and bright golds against the ceiling, the silence had become so loud that he had began to fidget in his chair.

"Stop moving." Kano's voice was again clipped and completely un-Kano.

"I can't help it. Something is really bothering you, but you don't look like you'd be very happy to have that pointed out to you."

Ritsuka felt Kano pause. At this point he was standing behind Ritsuka with his hands buried deep in the glossy strands, working smoothing gel into place. "You're right." He swiveled Ritsuka's chair around to face him, then sat on the ledge of the vanity table. "You're going to despise me for this, but I guess it's better to just out with it." Sighing and rubbing his forehead, he continued. "Seimei reserved my services for Saturday night."

Ritsuka stared at him, giving away nothing at all as Kano looked back up, evidently checking on the status of his sanity. When he was met without an outburst, he said, "In a way this is a good thing. I can either rebuff or confirm the information that is being kept from you."

Turning his head aside, Ritsuka looked wordlessly up at the windows. It took a few beats for the entire sentiment of that to set in, and when it did, tears welled forth like melting snow. And the worst part of all was that there was no anger in them this time.

* * *

><p>Kano <em>didn't<em> keep his word. It was all very horrible, in a way Ritsuka could only think about for a few minutes at a time before wanting to cry buckets all over again.

That Saturday night, Ritsuka had been selected by a client who was a stranger to him. The man was utterly unremarkable in every way, and Ritsuka had forgotten his name within five minutes of the introductions being made. Ritsuka had performed his services with more dispassion than he'd ever been able to muster before. Part of him was worried by how he really was beginning to remove sex from his emotions, and part of him was glad that he was finally learning how. Ritsuka felt torn when he thought about it.

The client didn't seem torn at all by Ritsuka's performance, however. He lavished him with compliments and praise when they were done, and even inquired whether he could "collect" Ritsuka again at the House. Ritsuka had shrugged, no longer caring who collected him if they weren't Seimei.

When he came back to the House that night, he had found Kano already back as well, walking up and down the street as if waiting for another client to appear. When he spotted Ritsuka, he stopped. He looked like he was ready to bolt in the opposite direction but somehow managed to stand his ground.

"Don't ask me any questions," he said abruptly. Not coldly; not exactly, but his eyes were like ice. "I can't. I can't answer them. Any of them. So don't try. I don't like telling you no, but I have to."

"What the hell?" Ritsuka said. "Did you even go with him?"

"I said don't." Kano looked as angry as Ritsuka had ever remembered seeing him. It wasn't true anger though. Really, it was frustration, tempered with something else. Kano looked rattled. "Ritsuka, I've come to care about you more than I ever thought I would. I wouldn't do this to you if I didn't believe it was for the best."

With mounting frustration and impatience, Ritsuka felt that all too familiar sting in his eyes. "I can't believe you, Kano! I trusted you!"

"I'm doing this for you!" Kano shouted to Ritsuka's retreating back. "Ritsuka, _please_!"

Ritsuka threw up a hand in disgust and dismissal, not knowing or caring how many of the boys were watching, and whether Kio, Natsuo, and Youji was watching this exchange or if any of them felt vindicated. He walked right through the House doors without hesitation.

The nerve of Kano! Repeatedly told Ritsuka he would investigate and tell him the truth about what was going on…and now this! The backstabbing hussy….did Ritsuka have not a single friend in the world? Was he constantly going to be betrayed? Maybe it was better to feel nothing at all. Ritsuka would rather be numb than suffer the slings and arrows of unrequited love and unfaithful friends.

But no, that wasn't actually true. Ritsuka would rather feel the hurt. Seimei was worth it. Even if he didn't feel the same way back.

In his haste to reach the stairs, Ritsuka barely registered that one of the lower level bedrooms was ajar. He passed it by without another thought, but his presence did not go by so casually to Soubi, who had been lurking inside. Ritsuka heard him clear his throat from within and started.

"Ritsuka," came Soubi's voice. "I believe it's your night with me. Do come in."

Ritsuka stepped into the doorway, glaring. "Yeah? If it's my night with you, then tell me why I was sent into the street to service someone who by now I can't even remember the color of his eyes. _Soubi_."

Turning back from closing the curtains, Soubi adjusted the wire frames on his nose, as if to better see Ritsuka's angry form.

"Well?" Ritsuka snapped. "Don't have an answer, do you? No one ever has any answers around here. You're all just a bunch of old gargoyles who see and know everything that goes on but never say anything about it!"

Soubi's cool expression didn't waver, but there was definitely a satisfyingly evident amount of surprise in his violet eyes. "You're in quite a temper tonight."

"I'm perfectly within my rights to be in a temper! Word around here is it makes for a pretty wild sex ride, so you should be pleased."

"Why don't you come on inside and close the door? You're likely to attract attention standing in the doorway raving like an angry little gorilla."

Ritsuka stepped in and slammed the door closed, knocking several books off a shelf.

"Afraid your boyfriend might see how hungry you are for baby gorilla tonight and foil the hunt?"

Soubi had moved around to a small work desk and pulled out the chair for him, which he ignored in favor of planting himself defiantly on the edge of the bed.

"I don't have a boyfriend," Soubi said.

Ritsuka gave a resounding snort and crossed his arms over his chest.

"I don't," repeated Soubi. Distantly, Ritsuka recognized that he sounded strangely insistent.

"Yeah right. You'd have to be blind AND deaf not to know that Kio is head over heels for you and you're….you're….God, you're _something_ with him. Why am I even having this conversation with you? Whatever. You want to lie to yourself, you go right ahead, but don't come crying to me when you finally do enough damage to him that he leaves for good."

Soubi paled, and Ritsuka took a vicious satisfaction in that fact.

"Yeah, think about that one, why don't you? Now are we fucking or what? I can't stay still this long. Or are you having too big of an epiphany about your boyfriend to get it up?"

Soubi cleared this throat and came over to the bed, looming over him. His blond hair shone in the fluorescent lighting. For once, he had no cigarette in hand. "Enough about Kio. I'm not keeping you here for conversation."

And with that, activities commenced between them. Ritsuka, for once, was glad to be getting on with it. If nothing else, sex was an excellent stress reliever, and though it went against everything in his nature, he took an uncharacteristic and savage relief from the distraction. Some insane part of him may have even welcomed it; in the end, he did not hate Soubi. He could look back and see why and how he had been so easily taken with him in the first place.

In the aftermath, he reminded himself that Seimei had been taken with Soubi at one point, too. Not loved, apparently, but taken with. Soubi had been good enough to be more than a rent boy.

"Feel better?" Soubi asked, somewhere beside him on the bed.

Ritsuka hadn't yet caught his breath. He pushed his sweaty bangs out of his eyes and said, "It's not like I could feel any worse."

"You'll get over it, Ritsuka. I assure you. We all do, eventually."

Ritsuka made a _tch_ noise. "You're an idiot, Soubi."

Soubi chuckled, carding his fingers through his hair and putting it back into some semblance of order. "I'm not. But I was."

Ritsuka turned onto his side to look at him. "Are you talking about back when….?"

"Yes, back when he and I were involved." Soubi didn't need to clarify who the 'he' in that sentence was.

An unpleasant, wry grimace crossed his face. It was the same sort of expression someone might make if they were to recall tasting baker's chocolate. The chocolate carried the promise of sweetness but ended up delivering a particularly bitter punch.

"It's not something I would talk about with just anyone, Ritsuka, and I hope none of this will be passed along to gossiping mouths. I say it in the hope that you might learn from my mistakes. Love is for fools."

"You can't really believe that." Ritsuka protested. "Everyone wants love."

"Until they've actually had it. Then all they want is freedom from the chains. What you're doing… you're chaining yourself, Ritsuka. Stop it before it's too late. You'll be stuck in your prison and he….he'll still be walking about, free as a bird."

His anger spent, Ritsuka was able to consider this objectively. Soubi wasn't trying to be a bastard, he just kind of was anyway. Looking at it from the viewpoint of someone who had basically had their heart tossed into a juicer and then dumped out like dirty bathwater, however, Ritsuka found a thread of empathy weaving its way around his emotions.

"Soubi? What about your chains?"

He looked like he wanted a cigarette. Just another thing that pointed to all of Soubi's dissatisfaction: the guy couldn't even have sex without needing a dose of nicotine to top it off.

"My chains, I'm afraid, are a burden I will always carry."

Ritsuka clutched the plain petal-orange sheet tighter. "While the bird flies free, unwilling to return?"

"Perhaps the bird does not return home because the bird himself had been chained."

"Then we're all birds," said Ritsuka, kinder than he'd spoken to Soubi in weeks. "And we all deserve a chance to fly."

"A dove with a broken wing cannot fly."

"But it can still find peace. It can find rejuvenation with another who has faith enough that they can both fly." Gently, Ritsuka placed his hand over one of Soubi's. "As long as the one who is broken doesn't break the one who can mend him."

Soubi's mouth fell open but no sound came out. After a beat, it became clear that he either didn't know what to say to that or refused to verbalize his reaction.

Then the door of the bedroom burst open.

A flood of light from the House hallway poured in, and in the center was a green-haired, heavily-pierced beanpole of resignation.

"Who is it this time, you son of a bitch?" Kio sighed. He slumped against the doorjamb, eyes and mouth drooping as if the muscles there no longer had the energy to hold them up.

Soubi didn't jump out of bed, or gather the sheets hastily about himself, or stammer guiltily, or do anything else that a cheating lover might be expected to do in this situation. Perhaps it was because Soubi never DID lie to Kio about his side dishes. But somehow he managed to seem guilty all the same. "Kio…" he murmured, not meeting his eyes.

"It's me, Kio," Ritsuka finally said. For whatever reason, he had decided to take pity on Soubi. God knew he didn't deserve it.

"I should have known," Kio drawled. "Is this your form of revenge?"

"Revenge?" Ritsuka sat up and reached for his pathetic excuse for underwear, which were thankfully boy-shorts and not a thong, even if they allowed far too much room for the curves of his bottom to show out the back. "I'm a prostitute, not a slut. Even if I was a vengeful person, I wouldn't do it this way."

Kio rubbed at his face. "I know."

After wriggling into his underwear, Ritsuka slid out of the bed, thinking if he were in Kio's position, he'd want the "other boy" to put as much distance between himself and the bed as possible.

He looked at Soubi, who had sat up in bed with the sheets around his waist, but hadn't made a move to get up. He was watching Kio with something suspiciously close to regret. The barbed orders he had been about to deliver died in Ritsuka's throat. He couldn't very well rub Soubi's nose in the mess he had made when Ritsuka himself was hung-up over the same exact person as him; Soubi actually having more right than Ritsuka to be so torn up about it. He bit back any sort of comment as he pulled his wine-red shirt over his head. It was long sleeved today, but form fitting with bare skin showing through three stylish slits up each side. Even so, he felt at a more considerable advantage with it on.

"Was it worth it?" he asked Soubi, soft and understanding.

When Soubi met his gaze, there was so much there that Ritsuka felt dizzy with the weight of it. I don't know, his confused eyes said. And Ritsuka could sense the longing in them. Perhaps it had been how Soubi had charmed him so easily — those eyes that held all force of unrequited love and ran through memories of Seimei for all the resemblance Ritsuka had to him. It was wrong, and yet Ritsuka understood. I don't know, Soubi's gaze was still saying, because he hadn't given up on Seimei either, and even Kio hadn't changed that.

Poor Kio, so wretchedly in love with someone unable (or unwilling) to move on from someone else. Ritsuka wondered if they were all just meant to be unhappy. He and Soubi and Ritsuka….even Kano. Kano might be honest about "liking" Ritsuka, but Ritsuka knew he wasn't in love with him. And some part of Ritsuka honestly thought Kano was hung up on somebody too — that lawyer friend of Seimei's. Ritsu. And maybe Seimei himself was longing for someone in particular too. It seemed out of character for him to ever verbalize it, but Ritsuka wondered. Maybe all of them were just meant to want whomever they couldn't have. Maybe life was just cruel that way.

"Shove over, Ritsuka," Kio was suddenly grumbling. Ritsuka looked up from his musing to find Kio yanking his shirt off irritably and herding Ritsuka back into the bed. Then Kio climbed in after him. He didn't climb in beside Soubi, though. He laid on Ritsuka's left, so that Ritsuka was in between them. He felt bizarrely like a child who had stolen away into their parents' bed after a bad dream.

Soubi peered at Kio over Ritsuka's shoulders. "Kio…" he murmured again, with veiled sorrow.

Kio ignored him completely.

"Go to sleep, Ritsuka," was all he said.

Secretly, Ritsuka was perfectly content with Kio wanting to use him as a living barrier between himself and Soubi. He still didn't feel up to facing Natsuo and Youji, mostly because he had come to his senses and realized he owed Natsuo an apology for belittling what clearly was NOT a mock romance, and he was too busy feeling cross at them for siding with Kio to do it. He wasn't feeling quite that civil toward Kano at the moment either. Although Kio was on his bad side as well, Ritsuka still had respect for his feelings.

He rolled to his side to curl toward Kio, putting his back to Soubi. In the following darkness, however, he couldn't help but think that of the three of them, it was Soubi who probably felt the most lonely.

* * *

><p>-<em>Bratchild3 &amp; Magic_Mind<em>

TO BE CONTINUED...


	18. Chapter 15

**Authors Note: **Bit of an earlier update this time, but still just as long of a chapter as usual. ^_^ Hope you enjoy. And thank you for all the reviews and to all you faithful readers. This fic is now longer than the standard novel. Crazy stuff. D:

Oh, BTW: Most everybody in here, including clients and minor appearances (like the girl worker in this chapter) are actually found in the Loveless series. How many of you recognize these minor characters?

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 15<strong>

* * *

><p>Ritsuka woke up the next morning before either Soubi or Kio, feeling well rested and rather snuggly. Kio had grabbed hold of him sometime during the night and was holding onto him like a teddy bear. The warmth and innocence of it all didn't call forth any issues of inappropriateness, and Ritsuka loathed to get out of bed, but he was hungry. When his stomach began protesting loudly enough that he feared waking his bed mates, he squirmed out of Kio's arms, who immediately filled his vacant middle spot and wrapped arms and legs around Soubi like an octopus. Ritsuka smiled faintly at them before tip-toeing out of the room.<p>

There were a few boys either already awake or just getting in, but the kitchen was empty. The only thing Ritsuka had ever learned to prepare for breakfast besides cold cereal was eggs, and those didn't sound appetizing in the least. He happened to know there was a box of Applejacks high in the pantry that had yet to be opened. Problem was, he was so small there wasn't any way of reaching it without help. He had just pushed a dining room chair against the open pantry and climbed on top of it when a hand fell on his shoulder. He whirled. Soubi caught him before he could lose his balance and fall off.

"Tsk tsk," he said. "I'm afraid it won't be cereal today."

Ritsuka's eyes lit up. "Kio's gonna cook?"

"No. Kio gets a break today. From everything."

Ritsuka could recognize an apology when he heard one, and this was definitely Soubi's idea of an apology to Kio for the night before. Ritsuka didn't comment on it, though. He feared that if he said anything, Soubi would immediately recant the whole thing.

"Then what are we eating?" Ritsuka asked. "My stomach's going to eat itself."

"You and Natsuo and his…unfortunate life partner…are going to retrieve donuts for everyone in the house. There is a more than satisfactory bakery three blocks from here. The owner already keeps a tab with me here. He's partial to Kio, but that's neither here nor there." A brief but dark look passed across Soubi's face. "You won't be charged for the donuts, in any case. Five dozen."

At first, Ritsuka wasn't impressed with the idea. He was hungry NOW, and God only knew how long it would be before Natsuo and Youji were awake enough to go with him. And why did it have to be them, anyway, when they were already on such bad terms with him? But then, Ritsuka found his mind changing. Donuts sounded tasty, and this might be the perfect opportunity to apologize for how he had slighted their relationship. Natsuo, at the very least, deserved an apology for the horrible things Ritsuka had said to him. He had no control over the fact that prostitution was he and Youji's only available means of income right now. And it didn't mean they didn't love each other.

Really, their prostitution was only further evidence that they loved each other so very much and would do anything for each other. Wasn't that the ideal love?

Ritsuka realized Soubi probably was waiting for a response.

"Fine. But I want at least a dozen cherry glazed."

"I sincerely doubt that a petite thing like yourself could manage to consume a dozen of anything, but you may certainly get as many as you'd like of whatever you'd like. Just remember to get the green box for Kio." Soubi removed his steadying hold on Ritsuka's waist and held out a hand to him. Ritsuka, puzzled by that last remark, looked at him quizzically. Soubi waved one hand carelessly. "They will know what that means. Now, allow me to help you down so that you can slip into an ensemble more suitable for daywear."

Ritsuka took his offered hand and stepped down from the chair. He wished this didn't make such a dramatic difference in height, but he now had to crane his neck to look Soubi properly in the eyes. "How long do I have to wait for Youji and Natsuo to get up before I can just go get them myself?"

"They're already awake," Soubi said. He began walking out of the kitchen, toward the main stairway. Ritsuka fell into step beside him. "They should have smartened themselves up by now. Run along, and be quick. You need to be absent from here no later than nine 'o clock."

Frowning at this, Ritsuka grabbed the sleeve of Soubi's robe and tugged him to an abrupt stop.

Soubi looked down on him, plainly amused. "Something the matter?"

"Why do I need to be away by nine? What's happening?"

"Ah." Soubi's eyes glittered behind his lenses. "Don't concern yourself with that. Your task is to fetch donuts."

"Does this have anything to do with—"

"Seimei? No, it does not." And with that, Soubi started toward the stairway again.

Natsuo and Youji were standing on the bottom step, looking slightly uncomfortable in so much clothing. They both had on normal-fitting pants, long sleeved shirts, scarves, and boots that looked much more combat than Spice Girls.

Youji appeared his usual sinister and slightly bored self, but Natsuo was looking uncharacteristically bad-tempered. He crossed his arms when he spotted Ritsuka.

"I don't understand why Kano can't take the little pipsqueak."

"I have another job for Kano this morning. You know this already," Soubi said, patiently. "He's needed here, and Ritsuka is needed someplace other. I don't want to hear any more about it."

"'I don't want to hear any more about it.'" mocked Youji, in a high-pitched, sing-song, extremely effeminate manner. "Go suck on a rock, Soubi."

Ritsuka noticed that he was holding what looked like a pair of jeans and a red sweater. The clothes were crushed tightly in his fist and hanging against his right thigh, like a bizarre weapon brought to a fashion war.

Soubi sighed. "Every second you delay is that much more incentive for me to dock your donut ration."

Youji tossed the clothes right at Soubi's face. _Actions speak louder than words_, thought Ritsuka. Soubi blinked maliciously, as if imagining all the delightful torments he would dearly love to put Youji through, before picking up the jeans and sweater and handing them to Ritsuka.

After that, Youji marched off, but not before looking over his shoulder at Soubi and throwing him a vicious glower. Natsuo followed after him. Ritsuka hastily pulled off his less-than-suitable daywear and changed into the clothes. Then he tore along after them at the rear.

Youji seemed to know where he was going, if the _stomp stomp stomp_ of his combat boots was any indication. He was walking too quickly for Ritsuka to catch up before he had made it through the house doors. Ritsuka had to pause to stuff his feet into a pair of galoshes someone had abandoned in the coat closet by the entrance. They were slightly too big for him but there was no time to find ones that did. Running in them was clumsy at best, but he was able to catch up to them just as they stepped onto the sidewalk. They were muttering to each other; it had become very clear that it wasn't just Natsuo in a foul mood.

"Cut my donut ration," Youji was saying, bitterly. "I don't even like donuts."

"I like donuts," said Natsuo. He somehow managed to make even that sound like a complaint.

"Which is the only reason I'm out of bed at this unholy hour, wearing clunky G.I. Jane boots and 'fetching' breakfast like Soubi's little cocker spaniel. "

Natsuo was silent a moment, then said. "Well, I don't like them enough for this to be worth it."

Youji slipped a hand out of his pants pocket and linked his fingers with Natsuo's. "Don't be stupid. You're worth anything. Even this."

"Isn't this Kio's job anyway?" Said Natsuo. He was sounding a trifle sunnier than he had a few minutes ago.

Ritsuka decided this might be a good time to speak up. "Soubi's giving Kio the day off from everything. I think he's finally trying to do something for someone else."

Youji laughed. "Soubi must have given you some pretty good candy-stick last night to make you sound like his little bitch."

"Wait, how do you know I was with Soubi last night?"

Natsuo actually smirked, looking triumphant. "Because Kano knows everything, especially where you're concerned. And he wasn't very happy about it."

"Eh," said Youji. "To be fair, he wasn't exactly wallowing either. He's not really the jealous type. Although…" he shot Ritsuka a wink. "I think he might actually be a little offended you give it up so easily to everyone else but won't spread your cute little legs for him."

"If you're going to try to get to me, there are much better ways of doing it," Ritsuka said, with dignity. "Kano knows why I won't," he faltered here and again found himself fighting a blush. That seemed to be happening a lot lately. "He knows why I won't do that and he respects my choices. I have no choice with Soubi, which he also knows."

"Doesn't mean he can't be sulky about it," Natsuo supplied, unhelpfully. "And after all you owe him."

Ritsuka bit down growing annoyance. "Look, what happens or doesn't happen between me and him isn't any concern of yours. I won't sleep with Kano because he isn't just another job for me. He's my friend and I care about him and I care about preserving that friendship, which is exactly why I would never sleep with the two of you either."

They stopped at a street corner, waiting for morning traffic to pass. Even in their drab attire, they were getting a few honks and suggestive gestures by passing motorists. The smell of wet gravel and car exhaust was much more predominant this side of the city block.

Youji was smirking down at Ritsuka. "Are you saying you care about us?"

"Yes," he said. "I'm saying I care about you."

Natsuo's expression softened considerably, and neither of them spoke. They both looked slightly shocked, which was definitely a first.

"Natsuo," Ritsuka continued. "I said some really horrible things to you. And all of them were untrue. It wasn't fair, and I'm not proud of it. I was lashing out because I was hurt. I've never felt hurt so profound and I wasn't in my right mind. You didn't deserve to be attacked and neither did Youji. I'm sorry."

By this point, Ritsuka's steady eye contact had broken, and he was looking down at his borrowed boots. There was silence for a few beats, then suddenly Natsuo grabbed him and squeezed him so tightly that Ritsuka found breathing difficult.

"Oh, Ritsuka! We love you too!"

Ritsuka didn't recall saying anything about love, but he didn't think it'd be prudent to point that out. The word was too complicated and too confusing for Ritsuka to consider. He hadn't even considered the word with Seimei; _feelings_ was as far as he felt comfortable thinking about consciously.

"Or, we at least love your ass." Youji added on lecherously, but his eyes betrayed him. They were filled with a fond exasperation so pure it was almost tender. He enveloped Natsuo and Ritsuka in his arms together as they hugged. Suddenly, Ritsuka was overcome with thoughts of his mother. Missing her love, twisted as it was, and the way she would hold him close when he caught a cold or scraped his knee playing on the concrete. Natsuo and Youji and Kano and Kio were great friends, but they could not replace a mother's love. She was the only family that Ritsuka had. He wondered if she was okay. If she was still out there searching for him. Maybe Ritsuka was selfish for leaving her. Maybe he should have stayed with her and all the terror she inspired, if only to know that she was alright. So what if it would have meant risking his very life? Weren't you supposed to risk your life for the people you loved? Ritsuka DID love her, as much know as he ever had. Ritsuka controlled his thoughts of her and only indulged in it rarely because it was too painful to contemplate most of the time. But the way that Natsuo and Youji were hugging him, so unselfishly, made it impossible for Ritsuka to keep away the memories of being cared for just as unselfishly before.

He would help her, Ritsuka vowed, right then and there. He would use part of his earnings and he would get help for her. He didn't know how yet, but he knew there must be a way. Money would barely be an obstacle anymore, if at all. He may even be able to get Soubi to fund it himself, if it meant a guarantee of keeping Ritsuka at The House for the duration of her treatment, which would probably be years. Which would be worth it.

The rest of the journey to the donut shop was significantly more enjoyable, with Youji and Natsuo now flanking him, their arms linked around his. They kept up an endless stream of innuendos, taunts, and the occasional verbal abuse of Soubi-which Ritsuka actually felt a little indignant about, but also found kind of funny, since most of what they were saying was true.

The punch in the gut came when they reached their destination. As they approached the door, Ritsuka actually laughing when he hadn't managed to in days, it swung open. Seimei appeared in the door frame, a steaming to-go coffee in one hand.

There was a timeless moment in which the four of them froze; Ritsuka, Youji, and Natsuo all staring at Seimei, and Seimei staring back at Ritsuka. He looked as if he had stumbled upon the crime scene of a murder he himself had committed- shame and regret and remorse at his own violation flashing in his eyes. But the glance was so fugacious that Ritsuka wondered if he had imagined it as quickly as it had disappeared.

His root-beer colored gaze fixed somewhere in the distance, Seimei held open the door, presumably to allow the boys to pass. However, that man... that man that Ritsuka had seen with Seimei a time before -with a sleek, dark ponytail, suspiciously slitted eyes, and a pointed rat's face- emerged. Nisei was his name, Ritsuka remembered, having picked up on his obvious possessiveness of Seimei before.

Nisei cut a path between Ritsuka and Seimei, smirking down at Ritsuka with an air of unsuppressed triumph as he passed. Seimei tailed him, letting Youji catch the door when he released it. He did not spare a second glance back as the two of them walked away across the parking lot.

"Seriously?" Youji shouted at him. "Why don't you be a man, Aoyagi, and-"

Natsuo rapped him sharply atop the head. "No!"

Youji covered his scalp. "Ow!" The glare he had shot at Natsuo quickly dissolved into an expression of surprised lust. "Mm. Damn."

"Just shut up saying anything to him. He's stupid anyway, and Ritsuka—"

As if suddenly remembering he was there, the pair of them whirled on him.

Ritsuka stood rooted to the spot, shock still coursing through him at the unexpected encounter. He looked up at them, not moving anything except his eyes. His heart hadn't yet restarted.

"Ritsuka," Natsuo said in a tone that was obviously meant to be placating. He had his hands up, as if trying to calm down a rampant horse. "Please don't do anything rash."

A young mother passed between them and disappeared through the door. Her three small children toddled along after her in an unruly line, their shrill voices shaking Ritsuka out of his stupor. He shook his head to clear it.

"I'm not going to-" he started, but Youji sprang and tackled him against the wall. Ritsuka's belly and right cheek were pressed flush against the white-washed brick. Youji had a handful of his shirt scruff, holding him down firmly like he was dominating a misbehaving house cat.

"I'm not going to do anything!" Ritsuka shouted, indignant at this injustice.

"That's right," Youji agreed. "Because if you do, nothing good will come from it. We're going to go inside, buy five boxes of sugary circles, and go back to The House."

He waited until Ritsuka nodded, scratching his cheek against the rough brick, before releasing him.

"God, Youji, you're not my bodyguard." Ritsuka huffed, dusting bits of grime off his shirt.

"_Someone_ should be," laughed Natsuo. He led the way into the donut shop while Youji made an appreciative growling noise at him.

Ritsuka didn't have any surprise left in him to be appalled, when it came to those two. Part of him was put out that they behaved so obnoxiously in public and part of him was charmed that two people could still be so into each other after years of being together.

Inside the shop was extremely pink. Revoltingly pink, actually. Pink and white checkered floor, pink countertops, pink barstools. Even the illuminated sign above the workers station was pink with a small relief of blue mixed in. Ritsuka seized upon this as an opportunity to think about something other than what and whom he had just seen. It didn't really work, but the imagery of a giant bottle of Pepto-Bismol vomiting all over the walls was certainly momentarily distracting.

"Can I help you?" said a girl behind the counter. She was actually smaller than Ritsuka-which was sadly not too often an occurrence when it came to full-grown adults (she looked about twenty-three or so)—and had two long, dark pony-tails that were so glossy they literally glittered in the patch of sunlight falling in from the windows. Her face was sweet and beautiful at the same time, with a smile that was all sugar and honey.

Ritsuka hated her on sight. A burst of jealousy hit him so hard in the stomach his breath failed him for the second time that morning. This woman had just taken Seimei's order, and although she was a _she_, that almost made it worse. Seimei indulged in a vast array of male company in the night, but this person was the sort of person who would look spectacular on his arm, and Ritsuka knew that he himself was one of only a few of the boys who didn't also enjoy female "company." He was sure this was true for their pool of clientele as well.

Bitterly, Ritsuka looked at the menu, again trying to distract himself from the possibility of this woman charming Seimei. There were glazed donuts. Cream filled. Raspberry filled.

But maybe he was being ridiculous. Seimei had dated Soubi, after all. Apparently, his taste did lean more toward Ritsuka's own.

Chocolate filled. Maple covered. Pink with confetti sprinkles.

…Yes, it was, in fact, rather stupid of Ritsuka to direct the force of his jealousy at this tiny girl when the real threat was more likely to be the man Seimei had been with. Nisei. What had that sidelong glance been? That arrogance. That air of victory.

Donut holes. Donut sticks. Cinnamon buns.

"Well?" Youji said from behind him, right into his ear. He jumped so violently he felt his extremities tingle. "Gonna pick something or would you rather I just take you into the bathroom and turn _you _into a cream-filled?"

Ritsuka was so troubled by the green-tinged visions in his head that he didn't even blush. Natsuo came up behind them both and scolded Youji.

"Hey now," he said. "None of that kind of talk unless _I'm _invited too. Remember the rule – no extracurricular activities outside of work unless I'm there too."

Youji made a blasé gesture with his hand, looking completely unremorseful. "How do you think I was planning to hold him down without you?"

And then the two of them shared a most disturbing grin.

Ritsuka decided that the fastest way to put a stop to it was to get their donuts and go. The tiny girl at the counter was smiling somewhat uneasily now. He hoped that she hadn't overheard their conversation.

"I need five dozens." Ritsuka said, trying to sound confident. "One dozen of-"

"Wait!" the girl interrupted, pointing at Natsuo and Youji. "I know you two!"

Natsuo and Youji looked at each other and shrugged. Ritsuka supposed this must happen to them from time to time, being in the business for so long. But had someone like _this _girl really asked for their services? She didn't look that too long out of puberty.

"Here!" she exclaimed triumphantly, placing a small green box on the counter. "You came for this too, right?"

Youji laughed again, this time viciously. "Really Soubi? He needs some lessons in romancing. Not that I'd ever help him out there."

Ritsuka ignored him. "Oh, yes that too." He pulled the small box toward himself and stared down at it curiously.

"You can peek," said the girl. Her nametag flashed, and Ritsuka saw that she was called Mikado. She reached forward and lifted the front facing flap to reveal a donut that was twice as large as any of the others. It was also shaped like a heart. In green, spiraled writing it said, "Forgive Me."

"It's filled with raspberry cream," Mikado told him. "Normally raspberry only comes in jelly. This is something we make specially for Soubi since he's one of our best customers. Well-" She glanced around and then whisper conspiratorially, "I also make it for that handsome businessman who held the door for you. That almost famous lawyer, Seimei Aoyagi…do you know him?" Before Ritsuka could even formulate a response, she carried on. "But I'm not supposed to! He never even asks for them. But we were old high school friends and he's always so polite."

Here, she dissolved into hushed giggles behind her hand, and that flash of jealousy that had seized Ritsuka earlier flared to life again. He almost asked her more; almost demanded that she tell him if Seimei returned her flirting. But his tongue seemed glued to the roof of his mouth, and he found he really did not want to know.

"So," said Mikado, closing the little green box. She leaned forward on her elbows, giving Ritsuka a generous view of her bosom. "What else will it be?"

Ritsuka glanced back at Natsuo and Youji to ask their recommendation on donut choices, but they were now so thoroughly absorbed in whispering and snickering to each other that Ritsuka was pretty sure they weren't all that fussed about what kind he picked out. He turned back to Mikado. "I think we'll take a dozen each of your five most popular kinds."

He also ordered a decaf mocha coffee to warm himself while the girl packed the petunia pink boxes. Natsuo and Youji actually did disappear into the bathroom for a disturbingly lengthy visit, and when they returned, smirking in a suspiciously naughty fashion, the boxes had just been pushed to their side of the counter.

"Shall I just put that on Soubi's tab, then?" Mikado asked. Ritsuka nodded, not really wanting to exchange any more words.

"Yeah, buddy!" Natsuo said, as if he had just won the lottery. He was peaking into the top box. "Ritsuka got us chocolate-filled!"

"Well…technically _Soubi_ got us chocolate-filled." Youji corrected, looking over Natsuo's shoulder. "But it's Ritsuka who put in the effort, so he gets more credit. And all Soubi cares about is the heart one, so…." He reached in and plucked two out, handing one to Natsuo. "We can eat extras on our way back and he'll be none the wiser. I worked up an appetite in there."

Natsuo narrowed his eyes at him and grinned. Ritsuka wanted to end the whole horrifying conversation.

"Let's get them back before they get cold, you guys," he muttered, grabbing a couple of the boxes. "And I'm taking the green one so Youji can't put something disgusting inside it."

"Hey!" shouted Youji indignantly, mouth full to bursting. "I wouldn't do anything to it! It's Kio's!"

Natsuo giggled. "Why do I hear a 'but' at the end of that sentence?"

"_But_," Youji added, gathering up the remaining boxes. "I'll make fun of Soubi about the whole thing for _ages_, trust me."

* * *

><p>After being incapable of working so many times due to either anger or having a meltdown, Soubi was adamant that Ritsuka work a full shift that night. Kano was again put in charge of grooming and dressing him, seeing as how Kio was enjoying a date with none other than Soubi himself. Kano had also been made charge of the working boys that night, instructed not to take any clients so as to keep a watch over those leaving and coming back to The House.<p>

He had tried in vain to tempt Ritsuka into a pleated skirt that night, but Ritsuka had refused so vehemently that Kano finally settled on black knitted shorts that looked more like lace than the cotton they were made out of. His shirt was white but tight and sleeveless, and it ended above his navel. Out of an act of kindness—or so Ritsuka believed was a reason—Kano had pulled out a pair of expensive looking knee-high boots that were so plush and fuzzy inside that Ritsuka barely felt chilled when he took up his spot along the curb. The other boys were laughing and joking about Soubi-and Kio, by extension.

"Seriously, man. A heart-shaped donut. _Again_," Youji was saying. One of Kano's roommates was listening raptly and chuckling. "Soubi has, like….no game. At all."

"And Kio _fell_ for that?" the boy asked.

"Kio falls for anything Soubi puts out there, even when he knows he shouldn't," Natsuo piped up. "I don't know why. Soubi doesn't deserve it."

Youji snorted. "Yeah. Little blond ferret that he is."

Another of the boys from Ritsuka's movie night then stated quite clearly and calmly, "I think Soubi has a lot of game. How many of _you_ guys has he fucked? Huh?"

Youji's eyes flashed and his fists tightened into small balls of fury. "Fuck you. Who asked you to join this conversation, anyway? I'll punch your teeth in."

The boy scoffed. "It's true. I mean, it's not like he's going around raping us."

Youji took a step forward, to which the boy didn't step down at all.

"Alright, break it up," Kano finally intervened. "This is hardly worth having a brawl over. We all already know that some of you hate Soubi, some of you don't mind him, and the rest of us look forward to getting called into his office."

"Don't look at me," Ritsuka said hastily, as Kano shot him a look over his shoulder. "Just because I find him a cut above most of our clients doesn't mean I'm marking down the days on my calendar until it's 'my turn' again."

A relatively good-natured argument broke out on varying opinions regarding Soubi's amount of game and whether or not he was more attractive than most of their clientele.

Kano used this opportunity to sink a little deeper in the shadows next to Ritsuka.

"Still mad?"

Ritsuka didn't look at him. He had fixed his gaze resolutely on a point of light across the street. "Quite."

"You know that I'll tell you as soon as the right time for it-"

"And who are you to decide when the right time is for me about anything?" Ritsuka cut in.

Kano opened his mouth, then closed it again without a word. Ritsuka stared him down, cold challenge in his eyes until he finally he came up with, "You're right, of course. I'm no one to decide when you should or shouldn't know something. But I don't believe it's my right to go shooting off my mouth to you about things that aren't completely comprehensible to me. That's gossip, and I don't engage in such repulsive activities."

"Then I guess I shouldn't even bother to ask you why Soubi was so keen to get me out of The House this morning."

Kano glanced around, then grabbed Ritsuka's shoulders and moved him a little further away from the crowd. "Actually, I have all my facts there neatly lined up, so I can tell you. But, uh... just keep an open mind, okay?"

"Open mind?" Ritsuka didn't like where this was headed.

"You were needed to clear The House today in order for us to throw your mother off your scent."

Ritsuka's hard expression slackened. "My mother?" Kano's hands were still on his shoulders; he stepped backward out of his reach. "What did Soubi do?"

"No harm done," Kano said, quickly. "He simply had Kio tip her off that there were some boys something like your description seen around here. As expected, she came to investigate at once, and Soubi graciously allowed her inside with a full tour. With all the boys just waking up and Soubi giving her full permission to search the premises-which she did, by the way-she was satisfied that you were not a resident of The House. Of course, you were simply off buying donuts, but she was easily swayed by Soubi's charm and the thought didn't seem to have crossed her mind."

It wasn't that Ritsuka was mad; he had wanted his mother thrown off his track. Soubi had promised to do so without hurting her further, and he had delivered. It was simply that Ritsuka was stunned into immobility. Even his brain seemed to have shut down.

Kano, blessed as he was with his ability to read people, didn't offer any unnecessary consolation. He simply put a steadying hand on Ritsuka's shoulder again.

"Do you need to sit down?"

"No, I'm..." Ritsuka trailed off, inhaled deeply, then said, "You met her?"

Kano nodded. "She's lovely. You have her eyes: sad and beautiful and soulful. She seemed very kind."

Reluctantly, Ritsuka felt his mouth twitch into a soft smile. Kano smiled back.

"See, Ritsuka? I do tell you things. Don't lose your trust in me. I'll always be your ally. And I hope you'll be mine. I see a lot of rottenness in a lot of people. When I find goodness, I don't take it for granted."

But Ritsuka wasn't able to respond to this. Kano's attention had been redirected to Youji and Natsuo, who appeared to have apprehended a woman in a red coupe and were attempting to persuade her into a buy-one-get-one-half-off special.

"A regular," Kano said without much interest, turning back to Ritsuka as Ritsuka gaped at the three of them. "They're fine with her."

"But she's a woman." Ritsuka was unable to keep the horror and distress out of his voice.

"Yes." Kano snapped his fingers briskly in front of Ritsuka's nose to regain his attention. "We do have a small handful of women who visit us regularly, and a fair few more who show up infrequently."

"I- I just c-can't." Ritsuka was shaking his head forcefully, looking after the red coupe as it sped away with Youji and Natsuo now inside. "Not a woman. I couldn't just neutralize myself to that. I'd be the one doing the violating, and it isn't right."

Kano chuckled darkly. "You think you'd be the violator, huh? Don't be so sure about that one." He shoved his hands into the carpenter pants he was sporting and looked out down the road. "There's plenty of man-hungry cougars out there."

Ritsuka shuddered and muttered the word 'cougars' with no small amount of mortification. "How do you deal with that?"

Kano shrugged. "Not any different for me than the men. I've been attracted to my share of females."

Ritsuka boggled.

Kano saw the look on his face and chuckled at him. "What? You think male models can't like girls?"

Honestly, Ritsuka had never given the desires of male models much thought at all, but he didn't want to say that. And since now the truth was off the table, he didn't answer at all.

Kano didn't seem to mind, though. "Well, former male models, anyway," he sighed.

Ritsuka felt the blood leave his face. He didn't know what he'd do if a cougar tried to pick him out of the lineup. Cry, probably. Or faint.

"Easy there, little tiger," said Kano. He flicked the cupcake charm hanging from the chain around Rituska's hips. "You're pale as Oreo cream. It's unlikely a woman would choose someone of your petite build. They usually go after Soubi's older, hairier, and more rugged collection. Notice how Youji had to talk that one into taking them. They're too pretty, the pair of them."

Ritsuka might object to the term "pretty" being applied to Natsuo and Youji, who were always so lecherous and blunt, but he understood with Kano meant. They were at least willowy.

"Well… I still need to figure what I'm going to do if some woman decides she wants to – " Ritsuka began, but Kano interrupted him.

"What the _hell_? _Already?_" Kano was saying in an awed whisper, staring down at the road again. There was a pair of headlights approaching.

"What are you talking about? I don't –"

And then Ritsuka realized. It was the black Rolls Royce.

Seimei was back.

Ritsuka didn't know whether to laugh or cry or run away or run forward. He ended up just staring, and staring, until the car pulled itself alongside the curb.

Whispers broke out among all the boys remaining on the street. Ritsuka couldn't make out any full sentences but he was able to hear a few words. "It's him" and "maybe me" and even someone who muttered "so hot."

Unable to bear it if Seimei took someone else, but knowing at this point that it was likely, Ritsuka balled up his fists and turned away. His heart was hammering so hard that the lace choker he wore was visibly jumping over the pulse points in his neck. He didn't want to hear the double whistle that meant he wanted Youji. He didn't want to hear that smooth, warm honey voice asking some other boy to come with him.

Ritsuka's breath became labored and shallow with building internal emotion. He wished Kano hadn't stopped speaking to him, but he seemed to be as distracted as the rest of them, and Ritsuka wondered if Seimei called for him if he'd actually leave his post as Kio's fill-in and go.

The sound of a car door closing registered distantly in his mind, but he had closed his eyes and was willing himself to think of calming waterfalls, gorgeous butterflies in a meadow, backlit by a crisp golden sunset. Not Seimei. Not his smile. Not his warm, kind eyes. Not his perfect, delicious touch.

A pair of hands encircled his arms just above his elbows—gentle, seductive, protective. Slowly, he opened his eyes. Seimei had knelt before him, one knee on the ground, looking up into Ritsuka's face with an expression like he were seeing sunlight for the first time.

Ritsuka's world came to a stand-still.

"…Seimei," he breathed, so softly.

"Are you engaged for the evening, Ritsuka?" asked Seimei. He sounded utterly polite, but also completely sincere.

It was an endearing mixture, and Ritsuka didn't want it to be. He wanted to be angry. He wanted to demand why Seimei was asking for him _now_, having passed him over twice before for someone else, and why Seimei had ignored him in the donut shop. He wanted to demand why Seimei still had to be so effortlessly charming, and why his hair had to fall just so across his face, and why he had to have eyes that melted Ritsuka like butter on a hot plate.

The most that Ritsuka could manage was a half-sullen, half-teasing answer: "I could be."

Seimei seemed to take the hint. He smiled and asked another question.

"Would you accompany me tonight?"

Part of Ritsuka (a small part) wanted to tell him no. It wasn't out of pride or resentment or even out of hurt, though. It was out a fierce, irrational desire to make it known to Seimei that he _belonged_ to Ritsuka. Some sort of primal, domineering instinct to stake one's claim on what one needed to survive. Ritsuka's heart told him that he couldn't live without Seimei; what right did Seimei have to carry on with someone else?

But the larger part was just glad that Seimei had come back, and that he was looking at Ritsuka with this kind of hope and interest. Ritsuka could no more say no to him than slice off his own right hand, and Ritsuka had always, always been afraid of blood.

"Yeah," Ritsuka said. "I can do that."

"Then please, allow me."

He stood and offered his arm to Ritsuka, like a 19th century gentleman.

Among much jealous whispering and a few cat calls, Ritsuka took his arm and allowed himself to be escorted across the lawn, toward the Rolls Royce. Seimei opened the passenger door for him and made sure his hands and legs were securely inside before closing it again. As he moved around the car to the driver's side, Ritsuka looked out the window back at The House.

Kano was leaning against the porch railing, his arms folded. He stared right back at Ritsuka with an expression that was dark with suspicion; but, curiously, it was not at all disapproving. In fact, he gave a short, single nod just before the Rolls pulled away.

Ritsuka wasn't sure exactly what that had meant, but he was too preoccupied to dwell on it. He seemed to be experiencing a minor heart-attack, and he couldn't figure out if it was in a good way or a bad way. An overwhelming sense of euphoria was threatening to override his sullen sense of betrayal.

Without warning, Seimei veered off to left. The Rolls turned into a dark and deserted side-alley, a little too sharply for Seimei's usual smooth navigation, and came to a stop just beyond the mouth of the opening.

Ritsuka looked around at Seimei, intending to ask what was happening. The words died instantly on his lips.

Seimei was turned in the seat toward him, eyes blazing. His breathing was heavy, liked he'd just ran the single block it had taken to get here. The look sent a jolt of arousal straight through Ritsuka's core.

"Come here," Seimei said, voice husky and breath hitched, and pulled the seat lever to lean back further. The action created extra space between the steering wheel and his lap.

Ritsuka understood the request immediately. He undid his seatbelt and swung a leg over Seimei's thighs, straddling his lap but not sitting; holding himself above Seimei on his knees.

Seimei trapped Ritsuka's torso between his hands, sliding them down his sides with deliberate appreciation. His fingers hooked into the hem of his lacy shorts and yanked them downwards, exposing soft cotton panties with _delicious _stitched across the front in fuchsia. One of those warm hands cupped the material between Ritsuka's parted thighs and massaged in slow circles, causing the printed strawberry to plump due to the answering swell behind it.

Ritsuka's hands shot out to grab hold of Seimei's shoulders. He gasped and threw back his head, all thoughts of being deliberately difficult forgotten.

"I must remember to thank Kano," Seimei murmured.

"I….I…picked out the bottoms," Ritsuka answered back, between gasps.

"Did you now?" whispered Seimei appreciatively. His fingernails skirted the elastic edge of Ritsuka's panties. They scratched softly along the skin there, and Ritsuka inched closer on his knees, hoping to persuade them to dip underneath.

Suddenly, Seimei's unoccupied hand slid to the small of Ritsuka's back. Lower still it went, until Seimei's fingers were hugging the curves of Ritsuka's bottom. There was nothing gentle about the squeezing pressure they applied. It made clear what Seimei wanted, clearer than anything he could have said in words, and Ritsuka had no intention of denying him. He rocked forward and back, forward and back, caught between the desire for more at both ends and unable to have it in both places at once.

He felt the smooth vibration of the car's engine in the leather seat; saw the soft glow of the interior lights all around him, and the thrilling, mysterious quiet of their alleyway in the darkness outside.

The warm hand cupping his front vanished. Instead, Ritsuka felt it creep up the bottom of the backside edge of his panties, sliding without hesitation into the valley of his rear.

With a harsh exhale, Seimei's forehead fell forward onto Ritsuka's chest. Seimei cursed softly, like the word was being ripped from his throat against his will.

"Forgive my impatience," he said, rasping. His hands fumbled in the mini pocket on Ritsuka's shorts, which were still bunched and only halfway down his thighs. He produced one of the small foil packets and tore into it with his teeth.

Ritsuka unbuttoned Seimei's pants, releasing his straining arousal and helping him quickly roll on the sheath. He spared a brief thought of thanks to Kio for having the foresight to always supply them with the pre-lubed kind, because there was too much haste to bother with preparation. Ritsuka turned in Seimei's lap and leaned his head back on Seimei's shoulder for leverage; Seimei grasped two handfuls of his rear and lifted him a few inches above his lap, allowing room for Ritsuka to kick one leg of the shorts down his boot and off. When Ritsuka pulled his panties to the side and lowered himself again, Seimei guided him into position and slid neatly inside.

Seimei exhaled like the breath had been torn from his lungs. Ritsuka felt a sharp but highly pleasant bite on the back of his right shoulder. He clenched experimentally, wondering if that would make Seimei feel even better, and a pained, pleading sound reached his ears.

"Don't," Seimei was saying. "Don't don't don't don't don't."

Usually, Ritsuka would have feared that this meant he had done something wrong. But at this moment, Ritsuka knew that Seimei was begging him to stop not because he had done anything wrong, but because he had done something very, very right.

Ritsuka felt himself grin. There was a heady, rushing feeling in his veins.

"Don't what?" he asked teasingly. Then he clenched again.

Seimei's fingers dug into his hips hard enough to bruise. "Why do I…get the feeling that….you already know?"

Ritsuka giggled. Oh, he liked this. He liked this a lot. Seimei sounded so _broken_. Like he was a knight in armor, but the armor was cracking.

He felt Seimei shift under him, scooting backward in the driver's seat, and then pull Ritsuka's hips against him at a sharp angle. Ritsuka inhaled in surprise, and then Seimei lifted him up again, before giving a fierce thrust.

All teasing was forgotten. Quickly they found a rhythm; Ritsuka complying readily to the demands of Seimei's guiding hands and accepting each desperate thrust with a helpless, pleading cry. Everything was hot and intense and fast; the wet, hard sounds inciting their building orgasms and making it end much, much too quickly. When Seimei's climax hit, he bit down firmly into Ritsuka's shoulder, muffling moan after moan into the cotton material there.

Ritsuka was sore and sticky when he all but fell back into the passenger seat. It took several minutes of recovery time, of gulping in deep amounts of oxygen to regain enough composure for him to hike his shorts back onto his hips and look over at Seimei again.

Seimei was still breathless, but composed. He was watching Ritsuka with an expression that strongly implied he wasn't even close to through with him for the night. A pleasant chill shimmied up Ritsuka's spine.

Seimei put the Rolls in gear and steadily eased out of the alleyway. He had looked into the rearview mirror to back out, and when he saw his own reflection, had ran a hand through his hair, putting it back into some semblance of order.

The highway wasn't far away. Soon, they were speeding down the fast lane. Seimei lowered the windows just a bit, letting in crisp, cool night air.

"Forgive my impatience," he said again, almost sounding self-conscious. "I truly didn't plan to be so hasty. Or to desecrate my car's virgin interior."

Ritsuka wanted to give a polite laugh in response, but he just couldn't. The term "virgin" called to mind how very, very much Seimei himself was _not_ a virgin – and that called to mind how he had taken Kano, and Youji before him, and countless others before that. The whirlwind sex earlier had wiped it from Ritsuka's head. Now, in the quiet stillness of a racing Rolls Royce, it was all Ritsuka could think about.

He remained silent.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" Seimei asked when Ritsuka didn't reply. He sounded genuinely worried at the prospect.

_Only my heart_ thought Ritsuka, bitterly.

"No," he said, trying and hoping he sounded casual. He made sure to keep his gaze out the side window. "I can handle the rough stuff too, you know."

He could see Seimei nod with his peripheral vision. "You've certainly proven that to me," Seimei said lightly, jokingly.

Again, Ritsuka didn't say anything. There was a small, ferocious monster tearing up his stomach. He had half a mind to start raving about Seimei's transgressions which, in all fairness, were not transgressions at all. He wondered if Seimei had even the foggiest idea of how Ritsuka felt, and if he did, Ritsuka wondered if he'd even care.

Minutes passed. City blocks rushed by in a colorful blur, steadily becoming more refined and classy as they drew closer to the penthouse. Finally, Seimei spoke again.

"My, my. You're so uncharacteristically chatty tonight I haven't gotten a word in edgewise. But please, don't let me stop you. As usual, I am charmed by every word."

Ritsuka shot him a scathing, exasperated look. Seimei's eyes cut to his, then back to the road. He was smiling brilliantly, white teeth glittering in the glow of passing lights.

"You want to smile, don't you?"

"No," Ritsuka said, flatly. He turned back to look out the window, propping his elbow on the ledge and leaning his chin in his palm.

Seimei reached over and patted his knee. "Hey, Ritsuka? Don't think about pink elephants."

Confused, Ritsuka was tricked into looking back at him again. "Pink elephants?"

"See, you're thinking about them now." He sounded immensely pleased with himself.

Ritsuka stared at him. "No, I'm not."

"Sure you are. You can't not think about them. And now you want to smile."

"I do not."

"Oh, Ritsuka! Don't smile!" Seimei suddenly exclaimed.

Ritsuka felt himself smile hugely, and was incensed with himself for doing it. "I'm not smiling!"

"Oh no!" said Seimei. "You're doing it again! Oh no! It's getting bigger! You look too happy and jovial! I'll start thinking that you're enjoying spending time with me! The world might end if that happened!"

Ritsuka couldn't help but laugh out loud at the mock horror in Seimei's voice. He was pulling the car into the penthouse parking garage, taking his usual reserved space.

Seimei put the Rolls into park and turned off the engine. Then, he turned to smile kindly at Ritsuka. "I'm quite the comedian, aren't I?"

Ritsuka was still upset with him, but he nodded and smiled reluctantly, unable to help it. He didn't think it was fair that Seimei could take his bad feelings away from him so quickly, and without Ritsuka's permission, too.

"Yeah." Seimei agreed, blithely. "I do stand-up in my spare time. It pays my electricity bills."

Ritsuka snorted. "It doesn't make you enough to pay the bill for this thing?" he asked, waving a hand at the dashboard.

Seimei sighed with deep, deep sorrow. "Unfortunately, no. I had to pay for the Rolls outright. Those British drive a hard bargain."

"That _is_ unfortunate," Ritsuka agreed, very seriously.

"Not as unfortunate as you unhappy, though." Seimei replied, all traces of joking forgotten. "One might almost think you were upset with me."

Slowly, Ritsuka's smile faded. He looked down at his hands, not quite as pretty as they once had been when Kio had dolled him up. "One might be right in thinking so," he whispered.

There was a heavy pause before Seimei said anything to that. When he did respond, he sounded sad himself, and thoughtful. "One would wonder why."

Guilt, Ritsuka thought, was a very curious thing. It made you forget your own pain, your own discontent. As much as he wanted reasons why this had happened, as much as he wanted reassurance that he was still the favorite, as much as he wanted Seimei to tell him he'd never pick up another of the boys again, he didn't want it as much as he wanted to ease the look of concern etched between Seimei's brows. Ritsuka may have been quick to anger and slow to forgive, but there had always been exceptions. And Seimei had become an exception to practically every aspect of Ritsuka's life.

This time when he smiled it was slow and hesitant, soft and sad. "Nothing important enough to spoil the time I have with you tonight."

Seimei gave him a wistful smile in return. "Well…" he said. "Whatever it is…I'm sorry." He sounded quite sincere.

Ritsuka waved off the apology as if it were all water under the bridge. Maybe it was. "Don't worry about it," he said dismissively, before joking, "Now….were you wanting another round in the car, or…?"

Seimei laughed. "No…I'm thinking a bed would be more comfortable next time. Wouldn't you agree?"

Ritsuka agreed.

Which is how he found himself in Seimei's bedroom not ten minutes later, on his back in Seimei's bed, Seimei's bangs falling onto his forehead.

"God," Ritsuka breathed out, as Seimei attacked his neck with sucking kisses. He wrapped his legs around Seimei's waist and clung tightly. Every thought had deserted him; only primal, carnal need was driving his actions.

Seimei seemed to be just as overcome. He tore clothes from himself between kisses, then started on Ritsuka's. He didn't seem to need any help there, able in his lust-drunk state to lift Ritsuka's hips off the bed and pull off his garments in one sweeping gesture.

Seimei threw Ritsuka's lacy shorts aside carelessly, and Ritsuka didn't see or care where they landed. Then Seimei yanked off Ritsuka's boots, tossing those aside as well, seeming to be just as impatient as he was in the car. He looked down at Ritsuka's exposed lower half and growled quietly.

Somehow it was evident without any words exchanged that no more speaking was necessary; neither was it desired at that moment. Seimei reached beneath the pillow behind Ritsuka's head and pulled out several wrapped condoms and a small vial of lubricant. Clearly he had been planning for this, and Ritsuka didn't stop to wonder if it had been planned with any of Soubi's boys in mind or with him in particular. Partly because he was finding it far more pleasant to disregard these self-destructive thoughts, but mostly because Seimei had slicked his two first fingers with the transcendent gel and was working them carefully, but rather eagerly inside of Ritsuka.

One of Ritsuka's hands clutched at Seimei's shoulder, the other at his waist, unable to hold back a gasp. Seimei stilled when he had buried his fingers up to the second knuckle. He lowered himself half on top of Ritsuka and caught the ridge of his ear between his teeth. Ritsuka cried out as Seimei's tongue darted out and his fingers began to move inside of him, jackhammering against a sensitive spot.

"S—S…" Ritsuka cut himself off sharply, biting into his own lower lip to quiet himself.

"Say it," Seimei said, almost hissing the words. "I want to hear it spill from your lips like a prayer. Say it,"

"Seimei!" Ritsuka called out. He was positively writhing against the sheets now, sweat beginning to bead at the nape of his neck. His orgasm was building with alarming rapidity. He closed his eyes and called out Seimei's name over and over. Seimei was panting against his neck, and the warm rushes of breath tipped him over the edge with almost violent urgency.

As his heartbeat began to fall, Ritsuka felt Seimei chuckle against his neck. He opened his eyes slowly, feeling drained already.

Seimei had sat up between Ritsuka's legs and was swirling his index finger against one of his knees. "My, Ritsuka, we're looking a little ransacked. What could be the cause?"

Despite himself, Ritsuka laughed. It was a weak laugh, admittedly, but Ritsuka had just had a very forceful orgasm and it wasn't his fault.

"Someone tall, dark, and handsome molested me within an inch of my life," Ritsuka answered teasingly. "That's all."

Seimei's cheeks suddenly sprout pinpricks of rose. He cleared his throat, then recovered his composure so quickly that Ritsuka wondered if it was all in his head.

"I suspect that that someone is not quite finished," Seimei teased back. His hands dragged down the length of Ritsuka's thighs and back again.

"Oh really?" asked Ritsuka. He wondered why this light, carefree feeling was only present when Seimei was around. "And why do you suspect that, hmm?"

"Well…" said Seimei thoughtfully, before leaning down and casually licking Ritsuka's stomach. He gathered a drop of sweat into his mouth and swallowed audibly. "I'm very familiar with him, you see. I know how he thinks."

Ritsuka was stunned into silence by the sight of Seimei literally licking something off of him. He couldn't reply.

Thankfully, Seimei continued anyway. "And what he's thinking right at this very moment is that you really, really need more….attention."

Honestly, Ritsuka wasn't sure his over-sensitized body could handle more attention, but that wasn't something he was about to say to Seimei Aoyagi right now or, in fact, ever.

"I think…" said Ritsuka, feeling too brain dead to remember words. "I think—oh, God."

Seimei had taken hold of Ritsuka's hand and guided it downward, wrapping the slender fingers around his arousal. "And I," Seimei said, his voice much more gravelly and serious now. "I need more attention, too."

This worked better than Seimei probably thought it would to rekindle the fire he'd just extinguished from Ritsuka's engine. Eagerly Ritsuka worked him, drawing satisfaction from every breath and groan he received in answer of his administrations. But Seimei was becoming impatient, as he had earlier in the car, and he didn't allow Ritsuka much time to get a steady rhythm before he was being pushed back to the pillows again, Seimei wrenching his thighs apart.

Seimei lowered his weight onto Ritsuka gently, taking care not to crush him, but also refraining from just hovering above him. When he was settled, he undulated back and forth between Ritsuka's thighs. Ritsuka could feel the hard length of him dragging across the sensitive places between his legs.

Seimei was panting again, huffs of warmth breath ghosting over Ritsuka's ear.

"I trust you don't….need…further preparation?" he asked.

Ritsuka shook his head with all the strength he could muster, which wasn't much. "No….no….do it."

"Say it again," said Seimei. "Say it for me."

Ritsuka shivered violently. There was darkness in Seimei's breathless voice - darkness, but not evil. "Do it, Seimei. Now. Please."

Seimei took hold of the underside of Ritsuka's knee, set it over his shoulder, and thrust, burying himself completely with one fluid movement.

The night went on this way, round after round of festivities punctuated by brief periods of rest in which Seimei appeared neither spent nor recovered. He remained breathy and sweaty, eyes filled with lust and energy unwavering. Ritsuka had paused at one point to ask if he were alright…

Seimei had pulled Ritsuka to him and whispered, "Yes. God, yes." And Ritsuka had let it go and opened his mouth for more deep, slow kisses.

* * *

><p>It was still dark when Ritsuka woke up, but only just. The sun's rays were glowing red and orange from just below the horizon, and Ritsuka could see skyscrapers in the distance glowing with the reflected light. He blinked blearily, expecting to find himself still at Seimei's penthouse, perhaps cocooned against Seimei himself, swimming in warm blankets.<p>

Instead, Ritsuka realized that he was in Seimei's car again, which was idling at the curb of The House. The engine was humming quietly, and the leather seat under Ritsuka was soft and cushioned and all that Ritsuka wanted to do was go back to dreamland.

There was a persistent tugging at his arm, however, that prevented him from doing so. Ritsuka realized distantly that this is what had woken him in the first place. He looked around as he was pulled from the Rolls Royce and against Kano's side.

"Cheers," Kano said, apparently speaking to Seimei.

Seimei nodded in polite adieu, blessed Ritsuka with a thin but warm smile and glided away from the curb.

Disoriented, Ritsuka started toward the direction of the car and was again hauled back to Kano. He moved hastily back toward the house, Ritsuka being bodily forced along.

"Kano," Ritsuka said, slurring his name. "Seimei—"

Kano cut him off. "Yeah, about him… I need you to tell me what happened tonight."

Ritsuka snorted. He was awake enough to remember he was still pretty miffed at Kano withholding information from him. "And why should I tell you anything?"

"Because it's important. I told you that I would tell you what I found out when the moment came, and it has come. I'll tell you whether or not you decide to tell me first. But I can guarantee you'll want to."

They made their way into the foyer of The House. Kano closed and locked the door behind them and then helped Ritsuka out of his coat. Ritsuka was finally beginning to feel more awake by this point. He weighed the merits of withholding the information, then decided it wasn't really worth it. In the end, he supposed he did still trust Kano well enough.

He shrugged and opened his mouth to speak, but Kano pressed his index finger to his lips to issue quiet and then pointed toward the kitchen. "Some of the others are still awake."

Ritsuka nodded, then moved in closer to Kano to speak more softly. "Everything went fine. I didn't notice anything different or peculiar other than that Seimei seemed a little overly eager and like he'd never get enough."

Kano laughed ruefully and shook his head. Ritsuka had no idea what that meant.

"And I'm sure he jumped you the moment you were in the door. Am I right?" Kano asked, using the same tone.

Ritsuka blushed. "Well…if you want the whole truth, he jumped me _before _I was in the door."

Kano snorted. "Good God, it's worse than I thought. Or better than I thought."

"Look, Kano, tell me what you were going to tell me!" Ritsuka demanded, unable to handle all of Kano's cryptic comments and reactions.

Kano glanced around warily, like he was expecting Soubi himself to just pop out of the woodwork.

…which actually wasn't all that paranoid, now that Ritsuka thought about it. Soubi seemed like the kind of person who DID have eyes in the walls.

"Come upstairs. We'll talk in my room – my roommates are always watching a movie or something around this time." Kano took Ritsuka's hand and dragged him quickly up the stairs.

Once inside the room, Ritsuka expected Kano to close and lock the door yet again. Instead he marched straight in and sat on the lower bunk. He beckoned Ritsuka with an absent gesture. Before Ritsuka could close the door, Kano said, "Leave it. It's better when you're having a private conversation in this house to never do it behind a closed door. Anyone could happen upon our voices and pause for some juicy eavesdropping. Come over here. Sit."

The room was beginning to fill with morning light now, the beams pouring in through a space between the barely parted curtains and striking the floor in two intersecting lines. Ritsuka crossed over them and sat next to Kano. The mattress and thick comforter gave pleasantly beneath him.

"Am I going to find out why you kept this from me so long in the first place?" Ritsuka asked.

"Sure," said Kano. He was looking at Ritsuka almost wistfully. "Oh, Ritsuka. Forgive me for thinking that your head was stuffed full of clouds and wishing stars. It seems you aren't imagining any kind of special treatment from Seimei. It seems you've been right all along."

"What in the world are you on about?"

"I wish it weren't true, to tell the God honest truth," he rattled on, like Ritsuka hadn't spoken. "Selfishly, part of me wished Seimei would break your heart. Then I could collect all the pieces and mend them myself. Do you hate me for that?"

"I—" said Ritsuka again, then cut off when Kano grabbed hold of his upper arms.

"What everyone around here was keeping from you was nothing more than the less-than enjoyable time Youji and I spent in Seimei's company when he called on us for the night. And the reason it wasn't enjoyable? He didn't _do _anything. _We _didn't do anything. He only wanted to… to talk."

"Talk?"

"About you, no less."

"About….me?" Ritsuka felt stunned and blind sighted and….so absurdly happy that his heart could burst. "Seimei was….just….sitting there talking about me?"

"It was bit annoying, actually." Kano said, staring into the middle distance grumpily. "He's a good lay, Ritsuka…well, I don't need to tell _you_. And usually I enjoy when he picks me up, because I'll at least get a good orgasm out of the deal – "

Ritsuka winced with jealous hurt.

" – but this time, ever since he first met _you_….he hasn't touched anyone else. He just sits and asks about you. What are you like outside of your work? What kinds of foods do you like? Where did you come from? How old are you? Are you seeing anyone? And on and on and on. I've never, _ever_, seen Seimei turn down sex with a willing and attractive participant. And I've _certainly_ never seen him ask personal questions about somebody he's been with."

Ritsuka decided to put his jealous hurt aside in favor of basking in the wonder of this revelation. Seimei didn't want to have sex with anyone but him-that's what he was getting out of this conversation. And what was more, he was interested in Ritsuka. _Interested. _Interested enough to ask about him.

It wasn't just Ritsuka seeing things. It wasn't just Seimei being his usual charming, polite self.

"But he does with you, Ritsuka. He turns down sex if it's not you. And God help me, I really think that there's a distinct possibility that he might really have feelings for you. The same way you have them for him."

Now Ritsuka was clutching at Kano's wrists. He actually winced.

"Ow, Ritsuka, that—"

"Do you mean that, Kano? You really mean that?"

Kano sighed, patiently prying Ritsuka's fingers out of his skin. "Of course I mean it. The absolute last thing I'd want to do is build up false hope in you. That's exactly why I refused to tell you before. Apparently, Seimei didn't do a whole lot of talking with Youji. The plan _was _to take him for sex. But Youji said that Seimei couldn't get into it, and he became angry and frustrated. Of course, this is Youji we're talking about here, and it's always Youji whose picked up when Seimei is angry and frustrated to begin with because Youji's the type to go for if you want it hard and rough and completely absent of foreplay."

"Too much information," Ritsuka said, flatly.

Kano shook his head. "But Ritsuka, the point is that I couldn't be sure if he just wasn't into Youji that night or was losing his appetite for rent boys altogether. When he booked my services, it was a blessing. I could see what was happening for myself."

"And with you, he only wanted to talk," Ritsuka said, slowly. He wanted to be sure he was clear on what he was hearing. "About me."

Kano ran all ten fingers through his hair, making it stick up like a pissed off porcupine. And he still looked good. "Right. Well, I won't lie, he did attempt to…" here he paused and glanced at Ritsuka's face. "You know. Attempted to make his money count for the night, but he only ever got as far as removing my coat and I could clearly see his mind was a million miles away."

Ritsuka was both afraid to ask his next question and afraid to _not _answer it. "And what happened then?"

"I told him that he looked like the last thing he wanted to do was fuck me. And then Seimei sighed and didn't say anything. And I could tell right then….right then, I could tell that something was up. I asked him if something was on his mind. And he just kind of laughed, but not in a happy way, and said something vague about how everyone has something on their minds all the time."

Yeah, that sounded like Seimei. Polite but closed.

"And so I asked him if he wanted to just bring me back to the House. And then he started in with all the questions about you."

Ritsuka turned this information over and over in his mind, looking for something that he was missing. Something that Kano was missing. Something that would explain how even if it _looked _like Seimei was falling for him, he wasn't. Ritsuka didn't want to find another explanation for Seimei's behavior, of course. He just didn't want to give in to the hopeful balloon rising inside his chest if it was only going to be popped later.

"I didn't want it to be true," Kano whispered. He was looking down at one of his hands. His nails glinted with green and blue confetti glitter polish. "I've never been so determined to hold on to someone as I have been to you." He looked up and smiled, but it was sad. Ritsuka felt a swell of sympathy tighten his throat. "But, I don't have to lose you. You aren't some prize to be won, and I'd rather have your friendship if nothing at all. And as your friend, I swear I'm going to help you any way that I can."

"Would you stop being so wonderful?" Ritsuka said, his voice too high.

"No, no, no, don't feel bad," Kano said quickly. "Never feel bad for being honest about your feelings. It's one of the things I like so much about you. I'm going to be just fine, you'll see." He patted Ritsuka's cheek affectionately. "Seimei is a very lucky man."

Ritsuka couldn't help but laugh weakly. "He's not actually lucky unless everything really is….like it seems it is."

"Well…" Kano said thoughtfully. "If it's _not_ the way it seems it is, Seimei's an idiot. And then whether he's lucky or not is a moot point."

Ritsuka could only make a "hmm" kind of sound in reply.

"But, Ritsuka, I don't think I'm wrong about this. I think there's something there. Soubi's so freaking _worried_ about it. Don't get me wrong, I don't think he really thinks Seimei is capable of loving somebody. But maybe he's thinking Seimei could start to _think_ he could love you, find out he's just as incapable as Soubi believes he is, and then break your heart. This is getting so convoluted…anyway, the point I'm trying to make is that maybe I'm not the only one who sees potential here. Maybe Soubi does too, and that's why he's fighting so hard."

"I never thought about it like that before." He paused. "You don't think he's going to put me on probation again, right? Does he know about this?"

"Yeah," said Kano, his face growing dark. "He knows about what happened with Youji and with me. He honestly seemed a little excited about it. I think he may still be hopeful Seimei will come around and realize he has feelings for Soubi. Poor sucker."

"Are you going to tell him what happened tonight?"

Kano looked at him a long time. Finally, he nodded. "Yeah. I'm going to have to. It's very possible Seimei will only be asking for you from this point forward. It's going to become obvious. Better I'm upfront about it. If we play our cards right, things will be okay."

Ritsuka didn't have much faith in this plan. But Kano had helped him so far and maybe it was best for him to trust Kano in this instance. Kano knew Soubi better than Ritsuka did, after all.

Ritsuka sighed deeply. "If you say so. Kano, just…please understand how grateful I am for all of your help. And please understand that….if this doesn't work out with Seimei….I don't know what I'm going to do. I…."

_I'm in love with him_ Ritsuka felt like saying, but it didn't seem fair to Kano _or _to Seimei if Kano was the first person to hear those words.

"I know," Kano said, and squeezed his hand. "I know."

* * *

><p>TO BE CONTINUED...<p>

_-BC3 &Mgcmind_


	19. Extra: Seimei-- Pulse

Author's Note: This is Seimei's point of view of the same night as the last chapter. Please Enjoy. :-)

* * *

><p>Extra: Seimei<p>

Pulse

* * *

><p>Four AM had begun to slip away when Seimei finally resigned himself to taking Ritsuka back to Soubi's House. A rule had been imposed from the start that each boy must be returned before sunup. Seimei had broken that rule only once (hadn't Kio looked so funny banging on his door and demanding Ritsuka back?), and, tempting though it was to repeat this so-called crime, he didn't feel it was worth the risk of Soubi retaliating in some manically infantile way. Seimei wanted to spend another night with Ritsuka in the very near future, so he had no choice but to continue playing the role of Soubi's House's best and most studious client.<p>

Ritsuka had fallen asleep quite abruptly less than one hour ago, fatigue and acute exhaustion from their ongoing activities completely overriding his ability to adhere to another of The House's rules: no rent boy was permitted to sleep on the job.

Seimei looked down on Ritsuka and smiled maliciously. Soubi didn't have an ounce of the control over this boy that he thought he did. The fool.

Seimei gave into an urge he had been suppressing for many minutes now and tucked a strand of Ritsuka's hair behind his ear. Ritsuka barely stirred, he was so exhausted. He merely sighed a bit in his sleep.

It was cruel to wake Ritsuka at this hour, after Seimei had put him through such rigorous acrobatics during the night. Soubi's rules were arbitrary. They were beneath Seimei's attention or respect. But Soubi was the gatekeeper to Ritsuka….at least at present. Wouldn't it be nice if he weren't? Wouldn't it be ever so convenient to simply see Ritsuka when and where and however frequently Seimei desired? So long as Ritsuka was willing? Wasn't that the way things _ought_ to be? Instead of this….this….

Seimei shook his head at himself. Soubi was the gatekeeper right now and right now was the moment Seimei needed to focus on. He had already dressed, but Ritsuka still needed to before they could leave.

"Ritsuka," Seimei whispered delicately, speaking the word into Ritsuka's ear.

Ritsuka didn't move. He was laying on his side, curled slightly in on himself. He hadn't put any of his clothes back on, but he was covered up to his shoulders with one of the bed sheets. Seimei put a hand on Ritsuka's bare shoulder and stroked his fingers along the skin.

"Ritsuka," he whispered again. "It's time to wake up. We need to get you back home now."

Ritsuka stirred, then said, in a voice crackling and hoarse with sleep, "what for? It's so warm here."

Seimei's heart broke into a thousand, tiny pieces, hearing that. He realized it was somehow just as exhilarating to think of keeping Ritsuka warm and safe as it was to think of him naked and gasping.

_Damn _Soubi for making him return something so precious to the hands of someone so undeserving.

Seimei could feel his mouth pulling into an expression of apologetic resignation.

"I know, Ritsuka, and if it were solely up to me, I would let you stay as long as you'd like. But the last time I kept you past sunrise, Kio had some choice words for the pair of us…." Seimei tried to sound casually flippant but he feared that his voice betrayed the sincerity of his wishes. "and I'd like to spare you from that if I can."

What Seimei didn't say, and what part of him truly feared saying, was the admission that his reason for wanting to follow Soubi's rules was less from a fear of Kio's wrath than it was from a fear of never seeing Ritsuka again.

"Come on," he said, not unkindly, but much more urgently. He felt his resolve slowly crumbling as the seconds ticked by. Ritsuka looked simply perfect in his bed. In _his_ bed. And what a horrible, terrible thought it was because it conjured up horrible, terrible images of Ritsuka in other, varying beds throughout this whole wicked city. It made Seimei feel sick.

Ritsuka complied on Seimei's second attempt. Eyes closed, he sat up and attempted to work the panties with the temptingly plump strawberry decal back up his thighs. He managed that much, but the shirt seemed to be more of a challenge. He kept attempting to force his head through the sleeve until Seimei straightened it out and pulled it down for him.

"Mmph," Ritsuka murmured, more sleepy than disgruntled. His face appeared from the edge of the collar, hair mussed and eyelids drooping, and Seimei couldn't help but smile kindly. He hoped Ritsuka would be too sleep-drunk to remember the tenderness of the expression.

"Would you like help with the….?" Seimei asked, letting his voice trail off. He held up Ritsuka's tiny shorts.

Ritsuka nodded without bothering to open his eyes. He held up one leg, and Seimei admired the smoothness of his skin….the definition of his calf…the suggestive length of his thigh.

He swallowed hard and slipped the opening of the faux lace shorts onto Ritsuka's leg and up, then followed suit when Ritsuka raised the other. Seimei hadn't known until that moment that dressing someone could be as sensual as undressing them, but Ritsuka's skin, his scent, the shape of him…

It was too close to sunrise to go another round. More important, though, Seimei would be no better than a savage to sap any more energy from the boy.

Trying to distract himself, he located the knee-high socks Ritsuka had come equipped with and covered up the tantalizing bareness of his legs. Then came the boots. Ritsuka's head had dipped forward, and he was breathing deep and audibly by the time Seimei had zipped them up.

He pulled Ritsuka by the wrists to a standing position and hitched the little shorts up the rest of the way, onto his narrow hips. He hadn't come with a jacket tonight, so Seimei found a deep red sweater of his own from his closet and pulled that over Ritsuka's excuse for a shirt. He was so small the garment hung off one shoulder, leaving it bare and vulnerable.

Leaning forward, Seimei nuzzled him there, breathing in the fragrant skin. He was sure all the boys must use the same soap, the same hair products. But Ritsuka had a scent all his own. It made Seimei want to devour him slowly.

Ritsuka's arms went around his neck, drawing him closer. He nuzzled his face in the junction between Seimei's throat and shoulder, and Seimei froze. He stole a few more minutes stroking Ritsuka's hair and breathing him in, promising himself he'd _make _the time to go back for Ritsuka much sooner than two or three Tuesdays from now, which is when he'd usually be up for another stop at Soubi's House.

He slid an arm around Ritsuka's back and another beneath his knees to lift him bridal-style from the bed. Ritsuka kept his face buried in Seimei's shoulder, his warm breath indicative of his continued sleep as Seimei moved from the room to the foyer where he had dropped his keys on a table when they'd first come in.

Seimei bent at the knees, using the arm under Ritsuka's knees to pick up his keys. Then he carefully turned out the lights and closed the door behind them.

One passing tenant gave Seimei an odd look as he walked down the hallway with Ritsuka in his arms, but Seimei didn't care. So what if it was unusual to see a grown man carrying an adolescent male bridal-style? What business was it of the passer-by? And if the hold Seimei had on Ritsuka looked romantic in nature, so be it. They had been doing things romantic in nature just hours before.

It wasn't an easy feat to get Ritsuka into the Rolls without waking him fully, but somehow Seimei managed it. He was leaning across Ritsuka's lap to fasten his seatbelt for him, halfway in the car and halfway outside of it, when Ritsuka stirred.

"Seimei?" Ritsuka asked drowsily. His voice was soft and breathy and he drew out Seimei's name with a lingering sort of longing.

"Yes?" asked Seimei hesitantly, turning his head toward Ritsuka to see his face. Seimei's lips were mere inches from Ritsuka's own.

Ritsuka blinked open his eyes, and their gazes locked. And Seimei felt it, for half a moment only, but it was undeniable. The way his heart stuttered… the push against his chest, like ice stealing his breath, but so much warmer.

Silently, he brought up a hand and brushed Ritsuka's cheek with the back of his hand, marveling at the unexpected thudding of his pulse.

"I…." Ritsuka murmured, and his eyelids drooped once more. The poor thing was fading in out of consciousness. He was so tired.

Seimei clicked the buckle of his seatbelt into place as softly as he could. Half of him felt guilty about the clearly taxing activities he had put Ritsuka through that evening, but the other half of him took a proud satisfaction in it. Ritsuka had enjoyed it, at least on a purely physical level. Seimei was sure of it. He drew back and shut Ritsuka's door, being careful not to shut it on any of Ritsuka's fingers or toes.

The night was cool and quiet as Seimei made his way to the driver's side. There was no one else in the parking garage, and no sound could be heard. A familiar but unnamed melody played inside his mind as he slid into the leather seat.

The instant his seatbelt had been fastened, Ritsuka leaned his slight frame against Seimei's side, encircling Seimei's arm and hugging it to his chest. His dark lashes closed against his cheeks; Seimei could see them from this angle, like two delicate fans.

Seimei hesitated yet again, casting the penthouse window another fleeting, longing glance, weighing the options. Finally he let out a long, slow breath and put the Rolls Royce into gear.

* * *

><p>There weren't any more boys lined up along The Street when Seimei's car emerged out of the darkness. Dawn would break within the next half hour or so, and the only movement besides a grey alley cat cleaning his face was Kano's sharp, bright eyes watching from the shadows of The House's awning. He waited patiently for the Rolls to come to a smooth stop before starting forward. His stride was characteristic of someone taking a sunny stroll down a meadow path, but his stony face betrayed his calm.<p>

Seimei put the car into park and waited for him. It was obvious Kano had words.

Seimei didn't dislike Kano. It didn't sound like much, but coming from Seimei, it was a compliment. Although he had never picked favorites before, Kano was easy-going company. He didn't boast, he didn't pry, and if he had any annoying habits, they never carried over into his job.

Yes, he and Seimei had always rubbed along as well as a client and a rent-boy could be expected to. There was no personal attachment, but the formality with which they spoke to one another was neither callous nor stilted. It was smooth business.

Tonight, though, there was a hardness in Kano's face that Seimei felt mirrored in his own. Seimei wasn't stupid—he knew that look. He knew it and usually he pitied whoever wore it. It was territorial, watchful, almost feral. Seimei had known for a while, by Kano's body language, that the boy had _feelings _for Ritsuka.

He pressed the button for the window, letting in the cool breeze on the passenger side of the car, and Kano leaned forward, his slender hands touching his knees.

"Well," he said coolly. "How'd everything go?"

Seimei cleared his throat. He glanced shortly at Kano, then turned his eyes to the road ahead of him and kept them there.

"Satisfactorily," he said. "No complaints."

Which, Seimei thought to himself, was the understatement of the century. But Kano didn't need to know that.

"And?" Kano asked. He evidently didn't think Seimei's answer was descriptive enough. Seimei suspected that he was waiting for news on a very particular subject. A subject that Seimei was unprepared and unwilling to address.

"And Ritsuka is exhausted," Seimei said. He gave Kano a small smirk, which gave context, and therefore meaning, to his words.

Kano exhaled sharply through his nose, leveling a thoroughly unimpressed look in Seimei's direction. "That I can see. But you know that's not what I mean."

Seimei sighed. It was very late, and Ritsuka was not only tired party. "What _do_ you mean, Kano?" he asked.

Kano's eyes narrowed. He spoke in a frustrated, harsh whisper. "Does he _know_?"

Kano was like a dog with a bone. This subject was none of his business, and though Seimei had made the mistake of revealing one of his cards on the night that he had picked up Kano instead of Ritsuka, he had no intention of showing him his entire hand.

Polite but firm dismissal, then.

"What he knows or doesn't know is between me and him."

Kano's eyes narrowed further, and he immediately opened his mouth to speak, undoubtedly to protest. But Seimei spoke again before he got the chance.

"Kano. I know you are endeavoring to help. And I do appreciate that. I'm quite sure that no one else in the House would ever do so. But please….now is not the time."

Seimei didn't want to reveal anything, it was true, but a second glance at Kano was enough to silence him. Kano's face changed, from tight concern to curiousness. The ridged line of his shoulders relaxed. Seimei looked away again.

"Okay," Kano finally said, after a long pause. All of his bristled nerves seemed to have smoothed down again. He opened the passenger door and began pulling Ritsuka toward himself. "I'll just be having this back then."

Seimei gave a single nod, trying not to dwell too deeply on how cold his arm felt without Ritsuka clinging onto it. Kano heaved Ritsuka up from under his arms and kicked the car door closed with his foot.

"We'll be seeing you then?"

And Seimei knew that even if Kano didn't understand, he understood enough to stand down. The cordial finesse between them returned, like an obstructed river cleared away.

Ritsuka was blinking in vague confusion, seeming to realize only now that he was back at the House. His eyes found Seimei's. There was a concern in them…almost a worry. Did Ritsuka fear Seimei returning? Did he fear that Seimei would _not_ be back? Did he _want _Seimei to be back? Soon?

_Brave_, Seimei told himself sternly. _Be brave._

He held Ritsuka's gaze, hoping that he was conveying the certainty he felt.

"Yes…most definitely," he said.

* * *

><p><em><strong>-BC3 &amp; MM<strong>_


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